


Worth It

by deansdirtybb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansdirtybb/pseuds/deansdirtybb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Dean sells his soul to save Sam and Sammy must find a way to save him before his year is up. This is an AU take on Season 3 where Sam starts to tap into his powers early to try to save Dean from going to hell. I borrow dialogue from show, but completely twist it to serve my purposes ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Rating:** PG-13  
 **Words:** 4438  
 **Warnings:** Wincest  
 **Spoilers:** Specifically Season 2 and 3, although some themes from Season 4 might slip in  
 **Disclaimer** : I'm just borrowing these characters - if only these pretty, pretty boys were actually mine...  
 **Summary:** Wincesty take on the Season 2 finale  
 **AN #1:** This was my very first fic ever.  Sort of follows season 3 but with Sam beginning to explore his powers before Dean's deal is up to try to save him.  
I've used some original dialogue and scenes from the Season 2 finale mixed with my own words.  


  
  
  
  
** Worth It **

Dean ran back to the Impala and slid behind the wheel of his baby. He had to get back to his brother, his Sammy. Had to know if it had worked. He turned the key in the ignition and peeled away from the crossroads pointing the car towards the cabin where he’d left his brother lifeless on a dirty mattress.

He hadn’t wanted to make a deal with a demon, it was the last thing he wanted. Well, the second to last thing. The last thing Dean wanted was to fail his one job, to lose his baby brother. As he’d sat next to the bed looking at the cold skin of his Sammy, he’d ached in a way he’d never believed a person could survive. His soul shattered with the loss of the only thing that ever truly mattered to him. His beautiful brother was gone, and despite all the hours spent together on long drives and in cheap motel rooms, Dean had never shown Sam how he felt. That he wasn’t just Dean’s brother, he was Dean’s whole universe and what Dean wanted more than anything was to hold Sam, press skin to skin, kiss every inch of …what Dean wanted was so much more than brotherly. And so far from the normal that Sam cherished and deserved.

Sam had tried to push the boundaries when they were kids. He’d hinted and flirted and finally even kissed Dean, but Dean had pushed him away. It was his job to protect his little brother, and sometimes that meant protecting Sam from Dean himself. That tiny push to move Sam’s mouth from his had taken more strength than every hunt he’d ever been on with his father, but he’d done it. Could always find that extra strength to keep his Sammy from harm. That tiny push had been strong enough to send Sam all the way to California; to college, to a pretty girl, into a normal life and far away from the dangers of hunting…and his twisted older brother.

But now, now Dean had one year. One year to take all the things he’d denied himself. One year to give Sammy everything he’d been asking for with that kiss. If Sam would still have him.

*             *             *             *             *

Sam woke to incredible pain in his back. He rose and went to the mirror to check for a wound. Down the center of his back there was an angry red line, but he couldn’t quite piece together what had happened. The last thing he remembered clearly was fighting with Jake, then Dean showing up. He’d been so relieved to see his big brother there with him. Then everything is jumbled and hazy and he’s not sure how he got from Cold Oak to…this cabin, wherever it is. Before he could work that through the door opened and Dean stepped in.

“Sammy? Thank God.” Dean stepped forward and wrapped Sam in his arms. He was warm and he smelled like his Sammy again and Dean could hear him saying “Ow,” but could only wrap him tighter in his arms because his brother was here and alive. Dean held onto Sam and couldn’t stop the tears that spilled over as the shards of his soul started to come back together.

“Dean,” The sound of his name coming from Sam’s lips pulled Dean back from his thoughts and he released his brother and stepped back. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry man, I’m just..I’m just happy to see you up and around, that’s all. Come on, sit down.” Sam looked at Dean and he knew there was something more behind Dean’s reaction. He also knew his brother wouldn’t have a chick-flick feelings discussion, so he decided to let it rest for now and sat with his brother. “Okay. Dean…what happened to me?”

Dean wanted so much to pull Sam back into his arms and tell him everything. That Sam had died in Dean’s arms and Dean realized as the life had drained from his brother that pushing away from Sam’s kiss had been the biggest mistake. He wanted to tell Sam that he knew he could never live without his brother so he’d done the only thing he could do. But Dean knew what telling would cost Sam, and Dean’s drive to protect Sammy was unchanged, still stronger than his own desire to hide from the truth in Sam’s warm arms. Best to play it safe, “Well, what do you remember?”

“I-I saw you and Bobby, and...I felt this pain. This sharp pain, like...like, white-hot, you know, and then you started running at me, and...that's about it.”

“Yeah, that-- that kid, stabbed you in the back. You lost a lot of blood. It was pretty touch and go for awhile.”

There was that something behind Dean’s eyes that he wasn’t saying again. “But Dean, you can't patch up a wound that bad.” 

Sam’s face was twisted with confusion as his eyes met Dean’s. He really should just tell Sam the truth now, before he found out another way, but he just couldn’t. Didn’t know how to tell his brother he’d sold his soul because he was too weak to face a life without Sammy. Had no way to say he would leave Sam alone in just a year to face the pain Dean himself wasn’t strong enough to endure. “No, but Bobby could. Who was that kid, anyway?”

“His name's Jake. Did you get him?”

“No, he disappeared into the woods.” Dean felt a twinge of guilt mixed with relief that Sam had changed the course of the conversation so easily.

“We got to find him, Dean. And I swear I'm gonna tear that son of a bitch apart.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there, Van Damme. You just woke up, all right? Let's get you something to eat. Huh? You want something to eat?” Sam knew his big brother was protective of him, but this seemed to be something more. He really wanted to know what was going on with Dean, but he could tell he’d get nowhere until Dean was ready to talk. Anyway he was hungry so he simply nodded as Dean said, “I'm starving. Come on.”

Sam rehashed the events from Cold Oak with Dean over pizza. It felt like a thousand other dinners in dirty motels or abandoned buildings, almost. Sam could tell Dean’s mind was fully hooked onto every word from Sam’s mouth, but he could see his brother’s heart was dealing with something entirely different. “Dean, what is going on with you? I mean, are you ok?”

Dean looked into his brother’s hazel eyes so full of honest concern and he couldn’t lie to him again. He still wasn’t ready to give him the whole truth either so he settled for, “Sam, you were missing for days. I sent you into that diner and then you just disappeared. I couldn’t get to you, Sammy and I didn’t even know if you were a-“

“Dean, it’s ok. I’m ok, I’m right here.” Sam cut his brother off. He understood now, could imagine how freaked he would have been not knowing if Dean was alive or dead for days. And he knew that Dean blamed himself since Dean saw it as his life’s mission to protect his little brother. He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed the muscle there. “You saved me, Dean.”

Tears appeared in Dean’s eyes and he ducked his head, “Yeah, just wish I’d have gotten there just a little sooner Sammy. Could have saved you so much pain.” 

Sam tilted his head at his brother. “So much pain? Really Dean, it’s not the first time I’ve been hurt and I’ll be fine. Seems like Bobby did a great job patching me up.” One look into Dean’s green eyes told Sam his brother remained unconvinced. Sam was confused, why was Dean acting this way over a stab wound? Sure, he would have been in a bit of a tailspin at a near-loss of Dean, but they both got beaten, stabbed and worse on a regular basis. It came with the job. “Seriously, Dean, I’m fine.”

“Okay, Sammy.” Dean tried to just let it drop. He knew Sam thought Dean had meant to spare his brother from the physical assault of a knife in his back. Dean was really more concerned with the emotional beating his brother was going to suffer when he discovered Dean’s deal. If he could just delay Sam’s discovery he could figure out a way to lessen the sting. 

“The demon said he only wanted one of us to walk out alive,” Sam said.

“He told you that?’

“Yep,” Sam said with a huff, “He appeared in a dream.”

“He tell you anything else?”

Sam shook his head and looked down as he answered, “No. No. That was it. Nothing else.” Dean knew his brother enough to see there was something Sam was hiding, but he also realized that if he pushed Sam, Sam could very well push him and he wasn’t ready to talk. “You know, what I don't get, Dean, is if the demon only wanted one of us, then how did Jake and I both get away?”

“Well, I mean, they left you for dead. I'm sure they thought it was over.” Dean turned his head away from Sam and ripped of a large bite of pizza. “So now that Yellow Eyes has Jake, what's he gonna do with him?”

“I don't know. But whatever it is, we gotta stop him.”

“Well, hold on. You need to get your rest. We got time.” Dean had just gotten Sam back, he didn’t want to be any part of putting him back in danger.

“No, we don’t.” Sam was just as Winchester-stubborn as his big brother and he wasn’t going to let the demon and Jake get away just because Dean’s “protect Sammy” need was in overdrive.

Dean frowned and stepped toward his brother, “Sam, oceans aren't boiling, okay? Frogs aren't raining from the sky. Let's get you your strength back first.” Sam saw the pleading look in Dean’s eyes and for a moment he wanted to give in. Just stay here and hold up with Dean. But Sam couldn’t relax with his brother while Yellow Eyes and Jake burnt the world to the ground.

“Well did you call the roadhouse? Do they know anything?”

Dean looked down, “Yeah”

“Dean…what is it?”

Dean sat down and when he looked up at his brother Sam saw that familiar mix of guilt and pain that Dean wore all too often. “The roadhouse burned to the ground. Ash is dead. Probably Ellen-- a lot of other hunters, too.”

“Demons?”

“Yeah, we think so. We think because Ash found something.”

“What did he find?”

“Bobby's working on that right now.”

“Well, come on then. Bobby's only a few hours away.” Sam stood from his chair but Dean put his hands on Sam’s shoulders to stop him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop, Sam, stop. Damn it. You almost died there. I mean, what would I have-- you just take care of yourself for a little bit, huh? Just for a little bit?” Sam could see tears and a world of emotion in Dean’s green eyes. 

He suddenly felt the full weight of his brother’s love and responsibility in a way he hadn’t since before Stanford. Sam was pulled back to that time, the feelings he still harbored for Dean. Sam had kept those feelings locked tight away since the day Dean had pushed out of that kiss. He could never face the rejection of the man he loved more than words could ever describe. It had nearly killed him the first time; that’s the only reason he’d ever left for Stanford. If he couldn’t really have Dean, if he had to stare at his beautiful brother and never touch him… Well, back then he’d thought it would kill him. What 4 years away had taught him was that the only thing worse than looking at Dean’s lips every day and not being able to kiss him, was to not be near his brother at all. So, when Dean had shown up in his apartment he vowed he would hide his sick lust for his brother, be the good little brother that Dean needed so Dean wouldn’t send him away again.

Now, looking into Dean’s eyes, he could almost make himself believe that Dean felt that same pull of a love beyond brotherhood. But he knew better than to let himself go there. 

Sam shook his head, as much to clear it as to convey his disagreement. “I’m sorry. No.”

Dean recognized the set to Sam’s jaw that said little brother wasn’t backing down on this. He had no way to argue with him that didn’t involve spilling the entire “I sold my soul for you” story. So Dean just clenched his own jaw and shook his head at Sam.

*             *             *             *             *

They’d been pouring through books and searching over maps in Bobby’s library for hours now. Dean wanted to find the answers and stop the demon as bad as Sam, but he found himself distracted. It seemed since he’d allowed the secret desires back into his consciousness he was having a harder time focusing on anything other than his brother. He found himself stealing glances every time he was sure Sam was focused on something else. He watched the way Sam’s shaggy hair fell forward and begged for hands to tangle up in it as he bent over a book. As Sam looked up through the shelves of old books, Dean had looked up the long tanned column of his baby brother’s throat, imagining how that honey-skin would taste if he licked it, how the flesh would give if he bit it. And currently his eyes had traveled up the never-ending length of Sam’s legs until they rested on his perfect tight ass. 

He was broken out of his thoughts by Bobby’s gruff voice, “I don’t believe it.” Bobby said as he set a large book on the table in front of Dean.

Sam turned and walked toward the table “What? You got something?” Dean blinked, now was not the time for feeling up his brother with his eyes. He forced himself to focus on the conversation as he, Ellen, Bobby and Sam pieced together what the demon was up to and how they might stop it.

*             *             *             *             *

Sam sat next to his brother in the Impala as they drove toward the cemetery in Wyoming. He glanced over at his brother who was concentrating on the road in front of his baby as they traveled well over the speed limit. 

“What Sammy? I can feel you looking at me.”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. Just…do you think we can really do this? Stop the demon this time?” It had nothing to do with what Sam had actually been thinking, but was a much safer topic. Something had changed in Dean, he just hadn’t quite pieced it together yet. He was pretty sure that while they’d been researching at Bobby’s Dean had been watching him. Sam wasn’t really sure why, although he suspected it had to do with Dean’s need to keep his little brother within sight after almost losing him. Part of Sam wanted to believe that the looks Dean kept sliding at him had little to do with being a protective big brother. After all, he’d been carefully stealing glances at Dean too. He was really trying not to think that way about his brother, he really was. But it wasn’t easy, not when those lips, those full perfect, soft lips were that close. 

“I don’t know Sammy. But I figure it’s as good a plan as any. We got at least a few more hours of driving, try to get some rest; you’ve been through a lot the last few days.”

“Yeah, ok Dean. Wake me when we’re close.” Sam had no intention of actually nodding off, but feigning sleep would prevent him from staring at his brother and possibly getting caught. So he slid down in the seat as much as his legs would allow and leaned against the window and he remembered. Remembered how soft those full lips had been the one time he’d actually worked up the courage to act on his feelings. 

_ Sam had just turned 18. He had been watching Dean and he was sure now. Sure that Dean had these same feelings that Sam did. He’d tried to forget, dated girls, but every time he kissed one, his mind brought up his brother’s face. It was Dean’s lips that he really wanted pressed to his. Dean’s tongue tangled in his mouth. Dean’s hands on his hips pulling him in closer. Only Dean. And so, Sam had watched his big brother and he was sure he’d seen the same look of want on Dean’s face. He knew his brother, knew his need to protect Sammy and his drive to be a good soldier would never let Dean act on feelings toward his little brother. No matter how much Dean may have wanted it, Sam would have to be the first one to take that step forward.  _

_ That night Dad left on a hunt. Dean was still healing from a particularly brutal run-in with a poltergeist and was left home. He wasn’t happy about it saying he was fine, didn’t need any more time, but Dad had insisted. Sam was secretly glad to be left alone with Dean. _

_ “I’ll be back in 3 days, 5 at the most. Take care of your brother,” John had said on his way out the door. Sam made mac and cheese for dinner and he and Dean sat watching an edited for TV watered down version of a crappy horror movie. Well, Dean was watching, Sam’s attention was split between stealing glances at Dean and trying to plot his big move. Dean finished his dinner and Sam grabbed their bowls and took them out to the kitchen. When he returned he sat down closer to Dean and Dean just looked into his face. For a moment green eyes just stared into hazel and neither of them so much as breathed. Sam finally broke the spell as he simply leaned in and pressed his lips to Dean’s.  _

“Hey Sammy,” Dean gently nudged his brother’s arm, “We’re here man.”

Sam’s eyes gradually blinked awake and he smiled a slow grin at his brother, “Hey Dean, I guess I was dreaming.” 

Dean had noticed the glances Sam had been making across the car and while Sam had napped, Dean had come to a decision. If he only had a year left with his brother, he was going to soak up everything he could from that time. Enough Sammy to carry him through the pit. And from the way Sam had been eyeing his lips, it seemed to Dean that Sam probably still wanted that kiss. His gaze softened as he took in the love in his brother’s gaze, “Yeah, Sammy. Was it a good one?”

“Mh-hm. Cute boy. Stolen kiss. You know.” Sam looked into his brother’s green eyes, letting a little of the heat he felt show through his own hazel eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Dean.”

“Sammy,” Dean started, but paused as his voice hitched. “Sammy, I want you to be careful tonight. I meant what I said. I almost lost you and I truly don’t know what I would do without you. You…you’re…” Dean wanted to say all the things Sam so deserved to hear. How much he loved Sam, that Sam was his entire universe, that he would do anything to keep him safe, hell he’d do anything just to see that damn dimpled smile of his. But Dean was not a man of words, he was a man of action, so he acted.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up as he realized his brother had just leaned across the car and was kissing him. His Dean had those beautiful lips pressed against his and he was about to question what was happening when he felt Dean’s tongue trace to line of his lips and he lost all ability for coherent thought. His head was filled with only “Dean” and “Yes.” He opened to Dean’s tongue and let himself get lost in the feeling of his brother’s lips against his, the taste of Dean in his mouth. 

Dean felt the way Sam tensed and then almost immediately relaxed into him. He nearly lost it when his brother opened his mouth for Dean’s tongue. He threaded his fingers through Sam’s stupidly long hair and just held Sam’s mouth to his as he tried to pour all his feeling into the kiss. He groaned when he felt Sam’s hands at his waist pulling them closer together. It felt so good, finally right, to be kissing Sam like this to have Sam’s big hands at his waist. 

He pulled reluctantly from Sam’s lips, cupped his hands around his brother’s face and looked into Sam’s eyes. Even though Sam had returned the kiss, he was terrified of what he might find there. “Sammy?”

“Yeah Dean.” Sam said, then started over, trying to pour all his earnest emotions into his tone, “I mean, yes. I still want this, want you, I’ve always wanted it. I always will want it.” Sam wrapped his hand around the back of Dean’s neck, fingers tickling at the ends of Dean’s short hair. “Please, don’t push me away again. Please tell me you mean this?”

Dean closed his eyes and exhaled in relief. He nodded, “Yes, Sammy. I mean it. I want this, more than this.” Dean stroked his thumb along the sharp line of Sam’s cheekbone, “So, I also mean it when I say, be careful here. Do. Not. Put. Yourself. At. Risk. Understand, little brother?”

Sam shivered at the wrong-hot feeling of hearing Dean call him little brother in his husky sex voice, then quickly caught on to the seriousness in Dean’s request. “Yes, Dean. I promise. I will be careful.”

“Good.” Dean said, dropping his hands from Sam’s face and turning to open the car door.

“Dean?”

“Yeah Sammy?”

“If I’m a good boy, will I get a reward?” Sam’s voice dropped on the last bit and his fox eyes twinkled wickedly.

Dean couldn’t form a coherent response as all the blood left his brain, so he simply shook his head and got out of the car.

*             *             *             *             *

Sam had watched as the yellow-eyed demon tossed Dean across the cemetery and he felt terror. He’d run from trying to help Ellen and Bobby close the door only caring that he needed to get to Dean, only knowing that he couldn’t survive anything happening to his big brother. Then he’d stood pinned and utterly helpless as the demon aimed the gun at Dean and for a moment his world stopped. Then Dad had appeared and Dean had shot the son of a bitch and thank god, or whoever because, life without Dean…well, he just could not stomach even imagining it.

Then when he’d had a chance to catch his breath and the pieces had fallen together, the picture he’d been left with stole the air right back out of his lungs. Dean had made a deal. With a demon. To save Sam. 

“You know, when Jake saw me...it was like he saw a ghost.” Sam huffed, “I mean, hell, you heard him, Dean. He said he killed me.”

“I'm glad he was wrong.”

“I don't think he was, Dean. What happened...after I was stabbed?” Sam had his set jaw and firm gaze aimed at Dean in a way that said he didn’t want to push, but he clearly expected the truth from the elder Winchester.

“I already told you,” Dean tried.

“Not everything.”

“Sam, we just killed the demon. Can we celebrate for a minute?”

“Did I die?” There were tears in Sam’s eyes and his voice was shaking and Dean simply could not take this. Couldn’t stand that his decision was going to hurt Sam. Sam continued, “Did you sell your soul for me, like Dad did for you?” Sam’s voice hitched with that and Dean’s protective instincts kicked and he couldn’t help but immediately deny anything that would hurt Sammy. Even if he lied through his teeth.

“Oh, come on! No!” It came out in his no-nonsense big brother tone, and Dean hoped it would get Sam to back down.

“Tell me the truth.” Sam demanded gently, and Dean sniffled as he tried not to break. “Dean, tell me the truth.”

“Sam...” Dean let out a small humorless chuckle and looked down at the ground unable to face the pain he’d put on his baby brother’s beautiful face.

Sam’s voice broke as he asked the most dreaded question, “How long do you get?”

Dean met Sam’s teary eyes with his own, looked at the ground then back up, “One year. I got one year.”

“You shouldn't have done that. How could you do that?” The tears that had been threatening started to spill from Sam’s eyes.

“Don't get mad at me.” Dean shook his head as he startled to lose the battle with his own tears. “Don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job.” His face was pleading; Sammy had to understand that Dean just wasn’t Dean if he couldn’t protect his baby brother.

“And what do you think my job is?” Sam asked.

“What?” Dean frowned, honestly confused.

“You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you?” Their eyes locked together and Sam went on, “You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this.” They both looked at the ground before Sam finished with, “Guess I gotta save your ass for a change.”

“Yeah,” Dean said and he felt Sam’s big hand on the side of his face. “Okay, Sammy.” Dean put his hand over Sam’s and stepped in closer. Their lips were millimeters apart when they heard Ellen and Bobby’s approaching footsteps and they pulled back. Sam whispered, “later,” quietly and Dean gave a short nod just before Ellen came up behind them. The boys tried to concentrate on Ellen’s words, but each already had their minds only on getting his brother alone.

*          *          *          *          *   


[ Chapter 2 ](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/1102.html)  
  
[Master Post](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8171.html)


	2. Chapter 2

**Rating** : NC-17

**Words** : 2888

**Warnings** : Wincest, dirty talk, spooning

**Spoilers** : Specifically Season 2 and 3, although some themes from Season 4 might slip in.

**Summary** : Dean sells his soul to save Sam, and Sammy must find a way to save his brother before his year is up.

I’ve used some original dialogue from 3.01 “The Magnificent Seven,” although it’s taken a bit out of context and tweaked a little.

  
  


Dean sat behind the wheel of the Impala and the only thing moving faster than his baby was his brain; he was having more than a little trouble processing everything that had happened. The demon, _the_ demon, was dead. Dean himself got to pull the trigger on the son of a bitch. Dad had climbed out of hell to save them. 

And Sam had figured out that Dean had traded his soul to bring his baby brother back to life. 

The look on Sam’s face when Dean admitted he only had a year had crushed Dean. He hadn’t realized until that moment just how selfish he had been in making that deal. Yes Sammy was alive, but a year from now his little brother would be left alone. As if that wasn’t enough to inflict on Sam, Dean had kissed his little brother, opened up the gates on an entanglement that would only make everything harder on Sam in the end. God, what had he been thinking? He shot a quick glance across the seat at Sam and his mind flashed back to the image of a cold dead Sammy on a dirty old mattress. Even just the memory of it hurt, and he couldn’t pretend not to see why he’d made the deal. Another look found Sammy looking back, then ducking his head with a coy smile framed by those dimples. Dean simultaneously wanted to kiss him stupid and run far away from the temptation of ruining his younger brother.

Sam could feel Dean freaking out across the bench seat. Not feel it in a psychic-vision kind of way, but in the way that he could read Dean from having been within an arm’s reach of his older brother for 90% of his life. Yeah, that was Dean’s freaking out but play it cool face for sure. Sam was pretty sure he could see where this was headed – down the it’s-wrong-to-kiss-your-brother-and-I-can’t-corrupt-Sammy road. That road was certainly not where Sam wanted to go. He wanted to stay on the road that let him keep kissing Dean, because _that_ was never going to get old. Yeah, Sam had to break Dean out of his thoughts before the freaking out became a major melt-down. He was pretty sure he could find a way to short-circuit Dean’s brain. He slid across the seat.

Dean was mid thought when his brain just stopped. Sam had moved and was now pressed against Dean’s side and one of Sam’s hands was on Dean’s thigh, long fingers stroking over the denim. He was pretty sure his thought had been important, but who could concentrate with 6 feet 4 inches of gorgeous little brother practically in his lap? 

“Whatcha thinkin, Dean?” Sam’s lips brushing his ear as the velvety whisper sent shivers up Dean’s spine.

“Nothing.” It was the truth. He currently was unable to think.

“Wanna know what I was thinking?” Sam’s other hand had come up behind and was running through Dean’s hair.

“Uh-huh.” Dean wasn’t even sure what he was agreeing to at this point. He was quickly on the way to sensory overload between one of Sam’s hands inching ever higher up his thigh and the other in his hair, Sam’s warm breath on his skin and the intermittent warmwet of Sam’s tongue tracing his ear.

“I was wondering what you’d taste like…” Sam paused to lick the shell of Dean’s ear and grinned when he heard his brother’s sharp intake of breath, “…when you come in my mouth.” 

_Fu-uck._ That was it; Dean’s brain was done all blood having abandoned it in favor of filling his dick.

Sam bit on Dean’s earlobe just the right side of painful, “Would you like that Dean?” Dean nodded dumbly. “Yeah? Bet you would. Want to see baby brother’s lips stretched around your big hard cock?”

At that, Dean Winchester honest to god whimpered. Who knew his sweet, PC, little brother who used his puppy-dog eyes to melt witnesses had such a _filthy_ mouth. And presently said mouth began sucking and biting on Dean’s neck. 

“God Sammy,” Dean moaned, as his brother’s lips hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“Mmm” Sam hummed against Dean’s skin, then huskily into Dean’s ear, “God Dean, wanted this so long.” Sam’s hand moved further up Dean’s thigh and Dean shifted in his seat.

“Find us a motel Dean.” Dean could only nod as Sam’s hand moved over his cock and gave a firm squeeze. “I want you laid out naked on a bed. Now”

“Fucking Hell, Sammy.” Dean was never going to make it to a motel; he wasn’t sure how he’d kept Baby on the road this long. As Sam continued the sweet torture of stroking Dean through the denim of his jeans and attacking every inch of skin on Dean’s neck, Dean looked for any kind of pull-off from the main road.

Sam knew the second Dean had whimpered he’d succeeded in heading off the freak out. Now as he watched his brother scan the road for a pull off he was glad. He’d gotten caught up in his own game and now all he could do was _want_. He wanted Dean’s lips, wanted his tongue. Wanted skin. He wanted Dean. Now. The hard line of Dean’s cock under his hand said Dean was in a similar state.

Sam felt the car stopping. _Finally_. Then Dean was pushing him back and Sam found himself sprawled across the bench seat and up against the door. Dean’s lips crushed into his and Sam opened immediately for Dean’s probing tongue. Sam tugged Dean’s jacket and long-sleeve shirt off, and then reached for the hem of his T-shirt. Dean broke the kiss long enough to help Sam yank the shirt over his head, then reached to pull the layers from his little brother. Sam’s hands wandered the hard plains of Dean’s chest and his mouth followed nipping at freckles. Dean arched into Sam’s touch then began his own exploration of Sam’s skin. Dean nibbled and licked his way across Sam’s broad chest as his hands traced down sculpted abs towards the button on Sam’s jeans.

Sam heard the zipper of his jeans as he felt the sweet release of pressure on his aching cock. Then his pants and boxers were gone and Dean’s hands were there and his hips thrust into his brother’s touch.

“Oh God, Dean… your hands. Nngh. Please…more.” 

Dean looked down and was instantly in love with the sight of his baby brother, naked, sprawled on the leather seat of the Impala, writhing, cock hard and leaking while he begged for Dean’s touch. 

And Dean needed to touch. He needed to feel all that smooth tanned skin against his own.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around Sam’s shaft, running his thumb over the head to gather the precum that Sam was leaking in abundance. The strangled sound that came from Sam’s throat at his brother’s touch made Dean’s own cock twitch. Dean moaned and ground his hips down finding friction as Sam brought his thigh up to meet Dean’s thrust.

Sam wanted the rest of his big brother’s skin naked to his touch. He got a hand between them and quickly opened the button of Dean’s fly. Sam pushed at the denim impatiently until Dean pulled back just long enough to get free of his jeans. When Sammy’s big hand wrapped around Dean’s hard length his older brother bucked into the touch.

The two brothers stroked each other, quickly falling into a matching rhythm, finding synchronicity in this as easily as they did in everything else. Sam leaned up searching for Dean’s lips and capturing them in a deep kiss. He pulled Dean’s tongue into his mouth and sucked at it, earning him a growl from his brother. Dean’s free hand came up to tangle in Sam’s hair tugging just enough. Dean broke the kiss and began biting a trail down Sam’s neck, sucking marks into the tan skin. Their hands pumped faster and God it felt so good, Sam felt the pressure building low in his belly and he knew this was going to be over much sooner than he would have liked.

“Dean,” he panted, “feels so good…gonna, oh fuck!”

“Do it baby boy, cum. Cum for me, Sammy.” And with that Sam came hard, painting his and Dean’s bellies. The sight of his baby brother cuming and shouting his name was enough to push Dean over the edge, “Sammy!” Dean howled out, then dropped onto Sam’s chest.

They lay together letting their breathing slow and Sam stroked Dean’s back, then leaned down and kissed the top of Dean’s head. Dean pushed away, “Dude, I’m not a freakin’ girl.” Sam smirked and shook his head, then reached between them to swipe at the mix of their cum on his belly. “Clearly,” he said, then licked his finger clean. Dean groaned as he felt his spent cock twitch at that sight.

“You’re filthy, Sammy,” he said as he leaned back in to kiss his little brother.

“You love it,” Sam replied and Dean chuckled and shook his head. Dean sat up and picked up his discarded t-shirt from the floor and cleaned his brother and himself.

“So, we really…” Dean tried.

“Yeah, we really did. You ok Dean?” Sam tilted his head as he eyed his brother.

Dean met Sam’s gaze. He could see the swirl of emotions in his brother’s hazel eyes, and he knew what Sam needed to hear. “I shouldn’t be…but I think I am.”

Sam beamed, “Me too, Dean. That was…I mean, I’ve thought about this since I was 16, but that was so much more…”

Dean smiled and placed his hand along Sam’s jaw, “I know,” he said stroking a thumb over Sam’s cheek, “Come on baby boy, let’s go find a place for the night.”

* * * * *

They found a motel just a few miles down the road and Dean parked the car while Sam got them a room. Dean raised an eyebrow when he opened the door to find only one bed. 

“What?” Sam said with a shrug. He was trying to play it cool, but Dean could see the blush spreading high across his little brother’s cheeks.

Dean simply shook his head with a crooked grin. “I’m gonna grab a shower and crash.”

While Dean showered, Sam got on his laptop to begin his research. He had to find a way to get Dean out of this deal, especially now. Even the thought of losing his brother was more than Sam could stomach. There had to be _something_.

Dean emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and water droplets still clinging to his freckled skin. He crossed the room to stand at Sam’s shoulder, and as he saw what was on the screen he frowned. He shut the laptop.

“Hey, what are you do-“ Sam was cut off by his brother’s plush lips pressing in against his. He quickly forgot about research as he got swallowed up in the force of nature that was a kiss from Dean Winchester.

“It’s late Sammy. You should get yourself a shower and come to bed.” Dean had only pulled away from Sam enough to end the kiss, but their lips brushed against each other with Dean’s words. Sam pulled his brother back in for another kiss. “Mm, what if I skip the shower and we just go to bed?”

Dean pulled away and laughed, “Sammy, I love ya, but, you are getting ripe, little brother.” Sam made a face. “Shower, then join me in bed Sammy.”

Dean was relieved when Sam went into the bathroom and shut the door. He would never admit it, not aloud and probably not even to himself, but he was nervous. Yes, Dean Winchester, self-proclaimed man-whore, was scared of sex. Well scared of sex with his little brother. He’d just never gone there with another man. He’d thought about it, even tried some things, but he had never gotten very far. He’d only done it in an attempt to forget about his feelings towards Sammy. Convinced that it was just a man he was lusting after and that man did not have to be in the form of his baby brother. However, when he found himself pressed up against another hard muscled body all he could think about was Sam’s body. It was much easier to forget about the contours of Sam’s muscled form when the person he was making out with was all soft girly curves and nothing at all like his Sammy. 

Now, though, now he no longer wanted the curve of breasts. Now he wanted Sam, and that was…well, that was scary. Except that Sam seemed to want him right back and that was hot. He just wasn’t sure how much of his usual skill set would transfer over, and he did not want to disappoint his brother in this area. He had a reputation to uphold. Dean was just going to have to find a way to push through this. He was a hunter, dammit. If he faced demons and wendigos and vampires, surely he could face this.

Dean laid down on the bed facing away from the bathroom. A few minutes later he felt the mattress dip beneath him, then Sam was there, flush behind him wrapping an arm around Dean’s waste.

“Sammy what are you doing?”

“Oh, sorry. Did you wanna be the big spoon?”

“Ha ha, Sam.”

Sam smiled, and pulled Dean in a little tighter and chuckled quietly when Dean huffed. “I was talking to Bobby earlier,” Sam said, “he reached out to one of his hunter contacts, Tamara. She mentioned this hoodoo priestess outside of Shreveport that might be able to help us out. You know, with your–with your demon deal.”

“Nah.” Dean said simply.

“’Nah’? What does that mean, ‘nah’?”

Dean sighed heavily, pushing out of Sam’s arms and turning to face his brother. “Sam, no hoodoo spell's gonna break this deal. It's a goose chase.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do. Forget it. She can't help. We're not going, and that's that.”

“’That’s that’? You’re just giving up? You know what? I'm ready to bust my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean, and you act like you couldn't care less. What, you got some kind of death wish or something?” Sam was becoming increasingly agitated and honestly couldn’t understand his brother’s willingness to give up. Couldn’t understand how Dean could so easily leave him behind, alone.

Dean pushed up out of the bed and crossed the room, “It’s not like that Sam,” he said wearily.

“Then what’s it like, Dean?”

“Sam-“

“Please,” Sam started, then more gently, “tell me.”

Dean heaved another sigh, then sat back down on the edge of the mattress. “We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welch our way out of the deal in any way? You die. Okay? You die. Those are the terms. There's no way out of it. If you try to find a way, so help me god, _I'm_ gonna stop you.”

Sam sighed shakily, “How could you make that deal, Dean?”

Dean stroked his hand across Sam’s high cheekbone, “’Cause I couldn’t live with you dead, baby boy. I just couldn’t do it.”

A tear trailed down Sam’s cheek, “So, what, now I live and you die?” his voice broke on the last word, and Dean cursed himself inwardly. 

“That’s the general idea, yeah,” Dean answered, kissing away the tear from his brother’s cheek.

Sam pushed away from Dean’s hold, “Yeah,well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish.”

Dean met Sam’s gaze, “Yeah, you’re right. It was selfish. But I’m okay with that.”

“I’m not.”

“Tough.” Dean said with a small sad smile, “After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled. Truth is, I'm tired, Sam. I don't know; it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel.” He rested his forehead against Sam’s.

“It’s hellfire Dean.”

Dean snickered, “Whatever. You’re alive, I feel good - for the first time in a long time. I got a year to live, Sam. I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell, huh?” He placed a chaste kiss against his brother’s lips.

“You’re unbelievable,” Sam said, kissing him back.

“Very true,” Dean shot back with a wriggle of his eyebrows.

Sam laughed, and shoved his brother playfully, “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean said as he leaned back in for another kiss. Sam wrapped his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him down closer as he opened his mouth for his older brother’s tongue. They kissed lazily for several minutes, then Dean turned back around and let Sam wrap his long arms around him again. Dean Winchester would never admit it, but he felt safer and more comfortable than he had in years wrapped in his baby brother’s arms.

* * * * *

  
  


[Chapter 3](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/1658.html?thread=7290&#t7290)  
  
[Master Post](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8171.html?view=88555#t88555)


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings:** Wincest, kissing brothers, possibly some angst  
 **Spoilers:** Specifically Season 2 and 3, although some themes from Season 4 might slip in.  
 **AN #1:** I've used some canon dialogue from 3.02 "The Kids Are Alright," and 3.03 "Bad Day at Black Rock," used for my own devices, of course.  


  
  


The next weeks were spent with Dean trying to immerse himself and Sam in hunting whatever “evil sons of bitches” were closest, while Sam quietly worked on every possible and improbable lead he could imagine to save Dean from his deal. So far neither Sam nor Bobby had come up with much.

  
  


At the end of one particularly grueling demon hunt Sam had received unexpected help from another hunter. A petite blonde female hunter, with a knife that _killed_ demons; Sam and Bobby were both looking into what kind of metal and/or spell could create a demon-killing knife. Neither had come up with much about that either.

Dean had, somewhat predictably pulled away from Sam again. There had been the odd fleeting touch, or quick kiss, but nothing with the heat or intensity that Sam had been hoping for after that night in the Impala. He had been sure Dean just needed a little time to deal with all this in his head, and since Dean was not exactly a big talker, Sam had done his best not to push. But then Dean suggested Cicero. And the yoga instructor. Sam’s patience and empathy were quickly incinerated by his jealousy, rage and hurt.

Sam had been sitting in a diner, trying not to think about what Dean was doing with his very bendy fling from the past, when the mysterious blonde showed up the second time. She’d known about Yellow-Eyes as well as Sam and the other psychic kids. Then she had dropped the insinuation that something happened to people close to his mother.

Dean felt like crap. This was perhaps the cruelest thing he’d ever done to Sam. The cruelest, and the most necessary. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Sam, God, he wanted Sam more than he’d wanted anything ever. Dean was surprised to find that a hand job in the Impala with Sam had been better than most of the sex he’d ever had with anyone else. Then spending that night wrapped up in Sam. It had made Dean see why people would ever consider cuddling. But seeing how that one act had affected Sam, how the intensity swelled in those hazel eyes…Dean could not afford another moment of weakness. Because in the end, when Dean’s time was up, Sam would only suffer more if they pursued the twisted tangle of being anything more than brothers.

So Dean had slipped his shields back up, careful not to touch Sam too much, only allowing a quick peck of a kiss when it couldn’t really be avoided. But it was taking its toll. Just because he wasn’t acting on his feelings for his brother didn’t mean the feelings had gone away. And after years spent in each other’s space, Sam knew how to push Dean’s buttons. He’d duck his head and look up at his older brother through the fringe of eyelashes and too-long hair. Linger just close enough so Dean could feel Sammy’s body heat. Let his eyes travel his big brother’s body in a way that Dean could feel as a physical caress. Come out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, hung just a little too low on his hips. When it had reached a point when Dean was feeling he’d give in, he brought up Cicero, and Lisa. It was a low blow, and Dean knew it, but better to sever this tie now, before it was too late and Sam was as hopelessly in love with his brother the way Dean already was.

He left Sam at the motel, and went to find Lisa, not really believing he’d be able or willing to follow through on anything with her. As long as Sam believed he spent the time playing Pokey to the Gumby Girl, it should be enough to drive him away from Dean. For a moment, Dean was going to toss the whole idea, fess up to Sam, who had surely already figured out that Dean was purposely pushing him away. Then Dean had met Ben, the son he’d never been able to have and it only made him surer that he needed to protect Sammy from this hunter-style life. Sam deserved the chance to have his own son. Once Dean was out of the way, Sam could have the wife, family and normal that he so deserved. In the end he hadn’t been able to so much as kiss Lisa back when she kissed him. It felt wrong. After kissing Sam, he couldn’t imagine another set of lips feeling right against his again. But Sam had left them alone, so he probably thought Dean had Lisa on her back by now. Better that way.

Sam left Dean with Lisa, the pretty brunette with the bright smile and apparently elastic joints. Damn Dean and his need to run from anything approaching emotional attachment. He tried not to think about that girl’s body pressed against Dean and began working his way through the list of his mother’s family and friends. 

They were dead. All dead. So he’d called the mystery blonde and now he was trying to get some answers out of her.

“They're dead. All of them. All of my mom's friends. Her doctor, Her uncle -- everyone who ever knew her, systematically wiped off the map one at a time. Someone went through a hell of a lot of trouble trying to cover their tracks.” Sam said as he paced the room.

“The yellow-eyed demon.” 

“So, what's your deal?” Sam asked, “You show up wherever I am. You know all about me. You know all about my mom.”  
  
“I already told you. I'm –“ 

“Oh, right, right,” Sam said cutting her off. “Yeah. Just a hunter. Just some hunter who happens to know more about my own family than I do. Just tell me who you are.”

“Sam, it –“

“Just...tell me who you are,” he said, voice getting louder and more impatient

“It doesn't matter.”

Now Sam was in her face as he shouted,”Just tell me who you are!”

“Fine.” The blonde blinked her eyes shut, then opened them to reveal demon-black before blinking them back to human again. Sam’s mouth dropped open as he stumbled back towards his bed fumbling through his bag.

“Think twice before going for that holy water,” she said flatly.

Sam finally found the flask he’d been searching for, “Give me one reason I should.”

“I'm here to help you, Sam,” she said with put upon patience as if speaking to a petulant child.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Seriously, was Sam supposed to believe that a demon wanted to help a Winchester?

“God's honest truth... or whatever,” she replied putting up her hand.

“You're a demon,” Sam could not imagine any scenario in which accepting help from a demon ended well.

“Don't be such a racist. I'm here because I want to help you. And I can if you trust me.”

“Trust you?” No way, Winchesters may make deals with demons when forced into a corner, but they did not trust them.

“Sam, calm down.”

“Start talking. All those murders... what was the demon trying to cover up?”

“I don't know.”

“What happened to my mother?”

“I honestly don't know. That's what I’m trying to find out. All I know is that it's about you.”

“What?” How could this all be about him? He always felt guilty about Jess, but he really didn’t want to believe that his mother’s death was his fault too.

“Don't you get it, Sam?” The blonde said with a smirk. “It's all about you. What happened to your mom, what happened to her friends. They're trying to cover up what he did to you. And I want to help you figure it out.”

“Why would you want to help me?”

“I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I want to help you from time to time. That's all. And if you let me, there's something in it for you.”

“What could you possibly—“

“I could help you save your brother.” And that got Sam’s full attention. He was willing to try anything to save Dean. Maybe even trusting a demon.

* * * * *

  
“Because Demon, that's why, I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a Demon you go for the Holy water, you don't chat!” Dean was nearly shouting at his brother. He couldn’t believe that Sam would even consider working with a demon. What did he not understand about the fact that messing with Dean’s deal would result in Sammy dying? Dean refused to allow that again.

“No one was chatting, Dean,” Sam spat out impatiently.

“Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?”

“Because- Because she said she might be able to help us out.”

“How?” Dean had to hear this. A demon help a Winchester, sure. Sam didn’t answer right away, so Dean pressed harder. “No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?”

“She told me she could help you, OK?” Sam said and Dean just gaped at his brother. Sam really was considering working with a demon, screwing with Dean’s deal. “Help you out of the crossroad deal.” Sam said wearily, confirming Dean’s suspicions.

“What is wrong with you, huh? She lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is, it's me.” Dean paused, then asked, “What else did she say?” Sam just stared out the windshield. “Dude?”

“Nothing,” Sam sighed, “Nothing, OK?! Look I'm not an idiot Dean, I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, Hell, we don't know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it.” Sam really saw no other option. It was clearly not an option to just allow Dean’s deal to play out, and no other leads were panning out. He looked at his brother, pleading with his eyes for Dean to understand.

“You're OK right, I mean you're feeling OK?” Dean asked.

“Yes I'm fine. Why are you always asking me that?” Sam snapped. Their argument was interrupted when the old cell phone of John’s that Dean kept in the glovebox rang with a call from the owner of a storage facility where their father apparently kept a storage locker. Said storage locker had been broken into and Dean pointed the Impala in that direction. 

They made the rest of the drive in silence. Dean drove them to a motel and they were in the room safely behind the salt lines before Sam said very quietly, “Dean, I can’t just let you die. I mean, I can’t. I just can’t. Especially not now…not after…”

“What Sam?”

“I just, I thought we were starting something here. You know, that night after the Devil’s Gate. It felt like something to me. I guess I thought you felt it too.”

Dean sighed heavily. He felt it, felt it right down to the very soul he’d sold to save his baby brother. But, as much as it was killing Dean to stay away, he just knew this was best for Sammy. 

“I mean, I get it Dean. You don’t do hallmark moments, and the way you carry guilt around, I can only imagine what’s going on in your head after-after what we did,” Sam went on, “But you gotta know I wanted that, want this with you. You’re not taking advantage of me. I’m not your kid brother anymore Dean, I’m all grown up now.”

Dean huffed and one side of his mouth went up in a smirk. Yeah, Sam certainly was all grown up now.

Sam dropped his gaze and shook his head, smiling weakly. He could practically read his brother’s mind, knew there was some smart-ass comment about Sam being a sasquatch about to come out of Dean’s pretty mouth. “Look Dean, I…I know this is going to take some working out. And I‘m willing to cut you some slack…but I gotta say. You and Lisa, that hurt. I was trying to give you your space to figure things out. I just want to know you’re still in this with me.” 

Dean studied a mystery stain on the carpet. He couldn’t look at Sam right now, he knew he’d be staring straight into the puppy eyes. “Sammy,” he said so quietly his brother almost didn’t hear, “I just don’t think this is a good idea. I mean, I just, you know, want to…I need. Dammit Sam. We just can’t do this, ok?”

Dean looked up to see the very look he knew he’d find on Sam’s face, but he couldn’t back down now. Time to really cut this thing off before Sam was hopelessly entangled in feelings for his brother. “I got a year to live here Sam,” Dean said, hardening his features, “I deserve to have a little fun. Lisa was fun. You should try for a little fun yourself.”

Sam felt that like a punch in the gut. He couldn’t believe Dean would do this, freak out yes, but deliberately hurt Sam? That was not like his brother at all. Dean would, and had, take a bullet to protect Sam from even the smallest pain. Then it clicked for Sam.

“Oh.” Sam said and a slow grin spread across his face. “ _Oh_.” 

“Oh? Oh what Sam?” Dean was quickly becoming irritated with Sam’s irking little brother know-it-all tone.

“Nothing. It’s just…” 

“What it is you think you’ve figured out now?” Dean asked impatiently.

“I get it now. I see what you’re trying to do here Dean, and it’s not going to work.”

“What the hell are you talking about Sammy?”

Sam took a step closer to his brother and looked straight into his eyes. “You’re not going to push me away Dean. You don’t need to protect me from losing you.” Dean quickly ducked his head, then looked back up at his little brother.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about Sam.” Dean tried, but Sam knew his older brother’s every tell, and Dean could never hide the truth from Sam.

Sam put a finger under Dean’s chin and raised his face until their eyes met. He stared into the emerald depths and slowly, purposefully leaned forward bringing their lips together. He kissed his brother deeply, intensely, pouring every bit of his heart and soul into making Dean feel how loved he was by his baby brother. When he pulled back it was just far enough to allow eye contact as he said, “Dean, I just got you, and I am not going to lose you. I _am_ going to save you from this deal; you will not go to hell. You won’t leave me here alone, so you don’t have to protect me from losing you. You don’t have to push me away so I’ll find some normal apple-pie, wife-and-kids life behind a picket fence.”

Dean’s eyes welled and a single tear streaked down his stubbled cheek. “Sammy,” he started, his voice rough. “Sam, I can’t, I just…I can’t do this to you. I can’t do something I know is only going to hurt you in the end.” Dean gently pushed Sam away, and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the doorframe, but he couldn’t look back. If he saw the pain he knew would be on Sam’s beautiful face he’d crumble, he didn’t have the strength for that right now. 

For a moment Sam was sure Dean was going to turn back around, tell Sam he didn’t mean it, tell him he was sorry. Just kiss him, anything. Anything at all besides this stubborn so-very-Dean reaction of denying himself to give his little brother what Dean thought Sam needed. As Dean put his hand on the knob to turn, Sam collapsed to the ground, something inside him breaking. And then he watched as Dean walked out the door.

* * * * *

  
[Chapter 4a](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/2307.html)

[Master Post](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8171.html?view=88555#t88555)  



	4. Chapter 4

**Rating** : NC-17  
 **Words:** 6752  
 **Warnings** : Wincest, angst, rimming,  
 **Spoilers:** Specifically Season 2 and 3, although some themes from Season 4 might slip in.  
 **Summary** : The next part of my WIP. We're kind of following season 3, with an eventual AU twist of Sam using his powers before Dean's deal is up to try to save him.  
 **AN #1:** I've borrowed some canon dialogue from 3.04 "Sin City," and 3.05 "Bedtime Stories," used for my own devices, of course.  


  
  
** Worth It, Chapter 4 **

Sam couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned and the room dipped and swayed, but his muscles simply would not coordinate to pull air in. 

Dean left. 

Dean said he couldn’t do this; then he walked out the door. What if he was leaving, as in leaving Sam behind? Sam would rather go back to the silent longing of hiding his feelings for Dean, than truly, completely lose him – God he couldn’t survive that. This was worse than when they were kids. His heart cracked into a thousand pieces and he felt the burn of every single fracture. Sam’s body shook as he began to sob uncontrollably. 

  


Dean stood outside the door and tried to breathe as he listened to Sammy. Six foot four of hard hunter muscle weeping on the floor of the motel room. Dean had done that. Dean had hurt his Sammy, and that broke his own heart. He put his face in his hands and leaned against the door silently crying his own tears. 

After several minutes, Dean could no longer take the sound of Sam’s heartbroken sobs. He put his hand on the doorknob, his first instinct to go back into the room, scoop his baby brother up off the floor, kiss him and hold him and take it all back. Dean knew it was what Sam wanted and that Sam would easily forgive his older brother and welcome him back. They could go on in the direction they’d started. Fall completely for each other…and then in a year Sam would end up heartbroken alone and sobbing on some other motel floor. Dean pulled his hand from the door knob and headed for the Impala. If he stood here listening to Sammy’s sobs for one more second all his resolve would vanish. 

  


Sam heard the rumble of the Impala as it pulled away, and his heart broke all over again. He hadn’t really believed Dean would leave him until he heard the sound of that familiar engine getting further and further away. The full weight of the loss blazed through him, the hurt so incredible it overwhelmed his brain and he suddenly found himself numb. As if his mind was trying to rescue his heart from the unbearable hell of losing the brother that had always been the center of his universe. Sam drew in several deep breaths and sat up shakily against the bed.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and flicked through the contacts. “Dean” lit up on the small screen and Sam just stared at his brother’s name for a full minute before putting the phone back in his pocket. He couldn’t call Dean, it wouldn’t matter. Dean wouldn’t change his mind, wouldn’t come back to Sam. Sam cursed himself. He had pushed Dean and now, he was well past having a freak out. Dean had made his big brother decision and Sam would get no say in this. “Hell with that,” Sam muttered and pulled his phone back out of his pocket.

  


Dean could almost breathe again back in the ever-familiar driver seat of Baby. He had no idea where he was going, other than away from his broken baby boy. But every ounce of Dean wanted to turn that car around and sooth Sam’s pain. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the same back-and-forth that had been assaulting his brain since he’d said the words that had broken Sammy’s heart. Dean would be dead in a year. Sam would move on. He’d find a nice girl, he’d have kids and he’d go on in a normal life, safe and he wouldn’t need Dean to have his back. He wouldn’t need Dean to salt the windows and doors every night. He wouldn’t need Dean to hold his hand. He wouldn’t need Dean.

A tear rolled down Dean’s face, and Dean realized he’d started to cry. He swiped at it impatiently, but it was quickly followed by another and another, until they were rolling down his cheeks unchecked. Sammy wouldn’t need Dean. That was good, he told himself, since he wouldn’t even be here if Sam did need him. “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath, why had he let Sam go into that diner, just for some pie. Why hadn’t he been able to get to Sam two minutes earlier in Cold Oak? He couldn’t bring himself to regret making a deal to bring his brother back, but he saw all the things he could have done, should have done to prevent Sam’s death in the first place.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of _Deep Purple_ coming from his pocket. Dean pulled out his phone and saw Sammy’s name on the screen. He hesitated before hitting the button to send it to voice mail.

  


Sam chuckled humorlessly; of course Dean would send the call to voicemail. He shook his head as he waited for the tone to leave a message. Sam wasn’t going to let Dean completely walk out of his life without putting up a fight. Sam took a deep breath, “Dean, it’s me…”

  


The back end of the Impala swung around wildly and the tires screeched as Dean slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel. He headed back to the motel cursing himself. How could Sam think that? Hadn’t he heard what Dean had said? Dean had just needed some air, a minute to collect himself, gather his strength…but what Sammy said in the voice mail…

_“Dean, it’s me. Sam. Uh…Look…I’m sorry, ok? Sorry I pushed you. I can handle it if you don’t…want me, but please, man. Don’t just leave. I can respect that you want to be just brothers, but if I only get a year with my big brother… Dean…I want the whole year. So…I’ll do whatever you need, just please come back.”_ There was a long pause and when Sam’s voice returned it was halting and broken, _“Please, De, don’t leave me.”_

Don’t leave him? Dean wasn’t going to leave…well, not permanently. But when he heard Sammy’s broken voice using the childhood nickname, well, it was more than Dean could withstand. Whether or not he was going to be with Sam, he couldn’t leave Sam alone. He couldn’t be without his brother. Dean had no idea how this was going to work out, but he headed back to the motel anyway, as fast as Baby would carry him.

  


Dean opened the door of the motel room to find Sam sitting on the end of one of the beds, elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. He looked up as Dean entered and relief flooded his face. Sam was up and halfway to Dean before he stopped himself, not sure how to approach his brother, not sure what exactly had been Dean’s motivation to return. 

“Dean-“

Dean cut his brother off with a raised hand. “Look, Sammy, I wasn’t leaving you. Was never gonna leave you alone. I just…I needed to get out for a bit. I…it’s-we’re going to be ok, Sam.” 

Sam nodded. “How? I mean…what..h-how do you want to…?” Sam trailed off, he wasn’t sure how to ask what Dean wanted without spooking him and honestly, he wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer.

Dean sighed heavily, “I don’t know Sam, I honestly have no idea. Let’s just take this hunt Bobby found…and see how it goes. Ok?”

“Yeah,” Sam said softly, “Ok, Dean.” Sam still had no idea where they stood, but Dean was here, in front of him, and that was a start at least.

  


* * * * *

  


The hunt Bobby had found turned out to be a couple of demons turning a whole town into unfettered id. Everyone just following whatever urges they felt, drinking, gambling, sex, murder. Dean found himself trapped in a basement with one of the demons, Casey.

“You're all right, Dean.” Casey said, “The others don't describe you that way. But, you know, you're -- you're likable.”

Dean flashed his charismatic smile and shook his head, “A demon likes me. Sorry, I don't know how to respond to that.”

“You could say thanks.” She smiled, then said more seriously “That deal you made to save Sam -- a lot of others would mock you for it, think it was weak or stupid. I don't.”

Dean was a little caught off guard, but he figured this would be a safe conversation, since no one would ever know about it. “It's been kind of liberating, actually,” he said, “Y’know, what's the point in worrying about a future when you don't have one?”

Casey looked at him skeptically, “Still…a year left. You're not scared?”  
  
“Nah.” 

“Not even a little?” she questioned.

Dean’s smile faltered just a little, “Of course not.” He was quiet for a few minutes before asking, “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“I'm an open book,” Casey replied.

“What's it like down there?” He was trying to look casual, but he couldn’t quite maintain eye contact as he finished his question.

“What, hell?”

“Yeah.”

“That's right. You booked a one-way ticket with that deal.” She paused; Dean scoffed and smirked at her. Casey looked straight into Dean’s eyes, “You're not gonna like it, Dean. And, um, judging from the trouble you've caused, I don't think you'll be getting the presidential suite. No, it's a pit of despair. Why do you think we want to come here?” Her tone was even, and he knew this wasn’t a demon’s taunts; this was just someone giving hard facts.

Dean wasn’t sure what answer he’d been expecting, or hoping for, but her words brought no reassurance or clarification. He was still headed for hell…and all he knew was that it was going to be worse than he would ever be able to fathom. He may never admit it, but he was starting to fear the result of the deal that had saved his brother.

  


* * * * *

  


Sam trudged around the motel room gathering his clothes and tossing them roughly into his duffel. He was glad to be done with this case. Glad he’d killed the demons, couldn’t regret that, but he didn’t feel good about having to kill the 2 humans they were riding. As he continued shoving things into his bag, the door opened and Ruby appeared.

“Leaving so soon? We haven't even had a chance to celebrate,” she said in her usual dry tone.

Sam’s nostrils flared in disgust, “Yeah, well, you can celebrate without me.” He’d had enough for one day, for several days actually, and he didn’t really think he could stand her double-talk and derision right now.

“You're not gonna get all pouty on me now, are you? Come on! You killed two demons today.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you don't care, but I killed two humans, too.”

“Sam, you know what happens when demons piggyback humans. They leave them rode hard and put up wet. Chances are those two would have died a slow, sticky death. You probably did them a favor.”

“Did them a favor?” Sam’s lips curled in repulsion, “You're a cold bitch, you know that?” Sam turned away from Ruby and reached for the colt on the bed.

“Yeah, and this cold bitch has saved your ass a couple of times now. Some respect might be nice. Especially if you want me to help you out with Dean and his little problem.”

“You know what?” Sam said, gripping the colt and turning back toward Ruby, “You keep dangling that, but last I checked, Dean's still going to hell.”

“Everything in its own time, Sam,” Ruby said, narrowing her eyes, “There’s a quid pro quo here. We're in a war. “

“Right,” Sam mocked, “But for some reason, you're fighting on our team. Now, tell me, why is that again?” 

“Go screw yourself. That's why.” Ruby spat at him.

“Oh I see,” Sam said sarcastically.

“I don't have to justify my actions to you, Sam. If you don't want my help, fine, then give me the gun and I'll pass it on to someone who will use it.”

Sam raised the colt, aiming it at the blonde demon’s chest. “Maybe I'll just use it on you.” He stared coldly into her eyes. The clock was ticking on Dean’s deal and he had no time for her games anymore. And quite frankly, he’d grown more than a little tired of her attitude.

“Go ahead, if that makes you happy. It's not gonna do much for Dean, though,” She paused, “So, what's it gonna be? Hmm?”

Sam blinked and swallowed hard. He knew he really had no other options right now. And if worse came to worst, he could always shoot Ruby later. He lowered the gun.  
  
“That's my boy.” Ruby crooned, as Sam swallowed against the war of emotions waging in his brain at the thought of really working with this demon-bitch. “This won't be easy, Sam. You're gonna have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage...but, it has to be done.” 

“Well, I don't have to like it.” Sam said and turned away from Ruby again.

“No. You wouldn't be Sam if you did. On the bright side, I'll be there with you. That little fallen angel on your shoulder.”

Sam’s skin was already crawling by the time Ruby finished that sentence. He wanted to hit her, shoot her, do anything but collaborate with her. He closed his eyes and let his head fall. This was for Dean, and Sam could do anything for his brother.

  


* * * * *

  


The boys continued to work cases, because it was Dean’s wish to kill as many evil things as he could before…well in the next year, and because Sam could not deny his brother the only coping skill he had outside of a flask. They were in the Impala, driving toward a case where it seemed fairy-tales were killing people.

“I don't understand, Dean. Why not?” Sam asked impatiently, sounding every bit the annoying little brother Dean was finding him to be at this moment.

“Because I said so,” Dean said, if Sam was going to be a petulant child, then Dean would play the stubborn big brother. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d agreed to “just see how it went,” and the tension between them was at near-snapping level. 

“We got the Colt now!” Sam shouted. Sam was grateful that Dean had not left him alone, but was still working on getting past the hurt of his brother’s rejection. Dean’s wish to see how things went had translated into ignoring everything that had happened and just working cases. They’d barely been able to look at each other.

“Sam...” Dean’s voice had taken on that warning tone that always meant big brother had taken about all he was going to put up with.

“We can summon the Crossroads Demon…” Sam started shouting, but was interrupted by Dean’s even louder shout, “We're not summoning anything!”

“...pull the gun on her and force her to let you out of the deal!” Sam finished forcefully.

“We don't even know if that'll work!” Dean was tired of going over this with Sam; they simply could not screw with the deal and risk Sammy’s life.

“Well then we'll just shoot her! If she dies then the deal goes away!” Sam countered.

“We don't know if that'll work either, Sam! All you're pitching me right now is a bunch of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ and that's not good enough, because if we screw with this deal, you die!” Dean was yelling now, hoping if logic didn’t get through his little brother’s thick skull, maybe volume would.

“And if we don't screw with it, you die!” Sam shouted, pain and frustration bringing his voice up several decibels. He was tired of Dean’s blanket decisions, tired of being told how things were going to be, whether he liked it or not.

“Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

“Why, because you said so?” Sam mocked.

That was it, Dean had had enough of this and he was going to finish this conversation, “YES BECAUSE I SAID SO!” he roared.

Sam was not moved, “Well you're not Dad!” Hazel met green in a stare-down neither brother was ready to give up. 

Finally, Dean yelled back, “No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?”

Sam did not understand. He was angry and frustrated and it probably looked to Dean like he was being the pouty little brother, but this was Dean’s life they were talking about. How could Sam just let Dean go? He had no intention of doing any such thing, but he knew Dean enough to see that this conversation was already over, so he just stared out the window, fixing a scowl on his face to stop the tears he felt building.

Dean thought he saw something behind Sam’s glower, so he offered the best peace offering he could and changed the subject, “Tell me about the psychotic killer.” When Sam didn’t answer he pressed, “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.” Sam sighed heavily and rolled his eyes before gathering up his file on the case and laying out the details for his brother.

  


* * * * *

It had turned out the deaths were the work of an angry spirit trapped by her coma-struck body. Sam convinced the father of the girl to face her, to really listen and in the end, the father had to let his little girl go. Before they left he said to Sam and Dean, “She was the most important thing in my life. But I should've let her go a long time ago.” It had been a rough case and all Sam wanted was to go back to the motel and hit the sack.

As they returned to the motel room, Dean turned to Sam and said, “You know what he said? Some good advice.”

“Is that what you want me to do Dean?” Sam asked stepping into Dean’s space and cupping his older brother’s stubbled cheek, “Just let you go?” Dean looked deep into Sam’s eyes for a brief moment, then pulled his face away and stepped back. 

Dean looked at the ground as he spoke, “Sammy, I have to protect you. Don’t you get it? While I’m still here I have to keep you safe, little brother. I’ve already hurt you with this,” he motioned between them,”It’s better if you just move on now. Then at the end of my year…” he trailed off, hoping Sam would fill in the blanks with the words Dean couldn’t bring himself to say.

“Then what, Dean? You think it’s gonna hurt me any less to lose you just because we’re not sleeping together?” Sam’s tone was a mix of incredulity and frustration that only Dean was ever able to bring out like this. He shook his head, then gently said “You stupid bastard. You are still my brother. The one person who has always been there my whole life. You are still the center of my world. Whether or not we have…this…involvement, it is still going to rip my heart out if you die.” There were tears in Sam’s eyes and Dean just stood there with his eyes still fixed on the carpet. “Dean?”

Dean raised his head and Sam could see deep green awash in the tears that Dean fought to keep from spilling. “Sammy. I-I’m…I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, baby boy. I just-you were dead and it felt like someone ripped me open and tore out my soul. I couldn’t help myself, I just…I had to have you back. I didn’t think-I shouldn’t have made that deal…I didn’t think it would do this to you. I just-I wanted you to have a chance to live,” Dean was talking fast and barely stopping for breath. Sam wanted to reassure Dean, but he knew better than to interrupt this rare moment of an open Dean.

“Sammy, I thought you’d just be able to grieve me and then move on. Go back to school, get married, have the normal life you always wanted.” Dean finally looked at Sam after he finished. 

“Dean, that was always the life _you_ wanted _for_ me. Not what I actually wanted.” Sam stepped back up to Dean, winding one long arm around his waist, and placing his other hand along Dean’s jaw, stroking the skin there. “All I ever wanted was you, Dean.” Sam leaned down slowly, hearing Dean’s breath catch. He brought his lips to his brother’s mouth and kissed him, deep and full, with all the emotion of the last month and of his entire life spent watching a brother who, as far as Sam was concerned, made the sun rise and set. His own lips pressed and pulled on Dean’s full lips with an urgency that was so much more than sex. 

  
  
Dean could feel every emotion tingling through his brother as Sam kissed him, and it nearly brought him to his knees. He swayed against his brother and then fisted his hands in Sam’s shirt and began kissing Sam back with all the same devotion. He used his lips to tell Sam that from the moment he’d been placed in Dean’s arms Sammy had been the only thing in Dean’s world; that nothing would ever matter to Dean without Sam, that he was so sorry he had made such a miscalculation about Sam’s feelings. 

Dean’s hands moved up Sam’s chest and found their way into the unruly chestnut locks of Sam’s hair. Dean opened his mouth and Sam’s tongue entered swiftly, claiming Dean’s mouth. Sam took his time and explored every ridge of Dean’s palette, the smooth moist planes inside Dean’s cheeks, then tangled with the just slightly rough texture of Dean’s tongue. Dean moaned and Sam sucked Dean’s tongue into his own mouth. Dean explored and claimed Sam’s mouth in the same way and by the time the kiss was over, both were dizzy.

The brothers pulled back from the kiss and their eyes met. Sam’s hazel searched the emerald gaze of his brother as Dean looked into Sam for answers. They each nodded in assent to the question neither needed to speak aloud. Yes. They were ready for this deepening connection, they needed it; it no longer made sense to go on without joining on this level. Sam’s hands smoothed across Dean’s chest as he pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders and arms so that it slid to the floor. Dean reached up, capturing Sam’s face in his hands and pulling him down for another kiss. Sam moaned into the kiss as it became hotter and then sweeter as Dean poured all his feelings into it. 

Dean grabbed the hems of Sam’s shirts and broke the kiss momentarily to gently tug them up over his little brother’s head. Once Sam was standing in front of him shirtless, hard muscle under tanned skin, perfect beauty that Dean had craved as long as he could remember. He laid his hands gently over Sam’s pecs, then pressed the one over Sam’s heart in tighter. He felt the strong beat of Sammy’s heart as it sped up. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the tattoo that kept his brother safe, that matched the one on his own chest. He slid his hands over Sam’s skin, barely grazing the surface and it raised goosebumps on Sam’s skin. Sammy shivered as Dean’s lips began following his hands over the skin of his chest, then up his neck. Dean licked a slow stripe up Sam’s neck, ending at the sensitive spot below Sam’s ear. He nipped at the skin, and then sucked it into his mouth. Sam moaned and tipped his head allowing Dean better access. Dean licked and nipped at the spot until Sam’s breath was coming in broken pants. 

  
“Sammy…” Dean whispered the name like a prayer, with all the reverence that those two syllables had held for Dean nearly his entire life. “I know Dean,” Sam whispered back, placing a kiss on Dean’s full bottom lip, “Me too.” Sam lifted Dean’s t-shirt over his head. He bent to kiss the crook where Dean’s neck met shoulder and placed small open mouthed kisses across his brother’s shoulder, then bent to the other side to repeat the action. Sam’s big hands glided over Dean’s freckled skin; he felt the muscle ripple under his touch. Since Sam understood what it meant to desire, Dean had been the object of that emotion. Dean was everything Sam had ever wanted, and Sam needed to show Dean exactly how much that meant. 

  
  
Sam looked deep into Dean’s eyes as he backed them toward the bed until Dean’s knees hit the mattress. He captured his brother’s full lips in another kiss as he gently laid Dean down on the bed. He broke from Dean’s mouth to move to his stubbled jaw, then down his neck. He stopped over Dean’s pulse point to bite, and then sucked the sensitive skin into his mouth. Dean hissed, then moaned as his back arched off the bed. Sam felt the hard line of Dean’s cock against his thigh and he pushed down into it. Dean let out a breathy noise as he arched back into Sam for friction. 

Sam longed to give Dean the release he was seeking, but this was about more than getting off, and Sam wanted to worship Dean. To make Dean feel how very much he was Sam’s everything. Sam understood the only way to get through to his brother was to speak in Dean’s language: action. He pulled his thigh back and Dean tried to chase it with his hips, but Sam just shushed him and used one hand to push him back against the mattress. “Not yet, Dean…gonna take care of you. Little brother is gonna take care of _you_ this time, De.” Dean let out a small breathy sound and reached for Sam. Sammy allowed himself to be pulled back into another kiss, as sweet as it was hot. 

Sam pulled from the kiss and returned his attention to the span of pale skin over Dean’s chest. He kissed along the skin, pausing to nip at freckles, then stopping when he reached Dean’s nipple. He looked up at Dean through his bangs and grinned before taking the bud into his mouth. He sucked and bit and tongued at it until Dean was moaning and writhing, then kissed across his chest and did the same to the other side. He kissed down his brother’s abs, pausing to lick into Dean’s belly button and was surprised at the strength of Dean’s reaction as he cried out when Sam’s tongue pushed into the dip. Sam nipped and kissed as he trailed down, he paused at the spot where Dean’s trail of golden hair met his belt. Sam watched Dean’s face as he slowly unbuckled Dean’s belt and unbuttoned his jeans. He bent and quickly removed Dean’s boots, before slowly sliding Dean’s jeans and boxers down his bowed legs and off. He stood and paused for a moment, drinking in the sight. Dean laid out, naked, skin flushed pink with the arousal Sam had caused, cock full and hard and just beginning to leak. It was beautiful. It was everything Sam had ever wanted. 

Sam removed his own shoes and pants quickly. He picked up Dean’s left ankle and kissed his brother’s instep, then moved his lips up through the blonde hair kissing every couple of inches as his mouth moved up Dean’s leg. At his knee, Sam adjusted his path diagonally across Dean’s thigh, ending at Dean’s hip bone, which he nipped gently, causing Dean to jump and gasp. “Sammy, please…”

“Shhh,” Sam, soothed. “It’s ok Dean, right here. Always right here.” Sam’s hands smoothed down Deans’ legs as he bent to repeat the process up Dean’s right leg. By the time Sam captured the skin over Dean’s right hip bone in his mouth, Dean was throwing his head side to side and babbling incoherent mixtures of Sam’s name and curses with broken moans and gasps.

Sam sat back on his heels between Dean’s thighs, waiting for Dean to look up, and as Dean met his gaze, Sam hooked his hands behind each of Dean’s knees and pushed them up and back. Sam grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed, and lifted Dean’s hips, placing the pillow underneath. Dean looked at Sam quizzically, but Sam just raised one eyebrow before bending his head.

Sam’s head bent between Dean’s thighs and Dean closed his eyes, ready for his baby brother’s mouth on his aching cock. His eyes flew open, when instead he felt Sammy’s lips press a kiss against his hole. “Sammy! What-” He was cut off by the sensation of Sam’s tongue, Sammy’s hot, wet tongue tracing the circle of delicate flesh around his pucker. Dean’s head flew back as he involuntarily arched into Sam’s mouth. Sam moaned and the vibrations only had Dean canting his hips more. Sam’s tongue traced circle after circle, teasing around the entrance. Dean had been reduced to harsh panting and breathy moans, and as he felt Sam’s tongue breach his hole he cried out. “Oh, God…Sammy..God…baby boy, that feels-” Sam just smiled briefly against Dean’s skin, then began fucking his tongue into his brother’s hole. He started slowly, teasingly, but quickly lost himself in Dean’s reaction and needed more. He used a hand on each of Dean’s firm ass cheeks to pull them apart giving him better access. He drove his tongue as deep into Dean as he could, stopping occasionally to swirl his tongue around the smooth hot skin inside his brother’s channel. 

Dean was gone. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything past, “Yes!” and “More!” He shamelessly canted his hips to give his Sammy better access and moaned deep and loud and long when he was rewarded with a particularly deep plunge of Sammy’s talented tongue. He could feel the wet dripping out of him and he didn’t even care how sloppy it was, it just felt so _good_. 

“Please, Sammy, please, more…” Dean wasn’t even sure what he was begging for, he just knew that suddenly, as good as Sam’s tongue felt in him, he needed more of Sam. In him. Now. Sam pulled back long enough to ask, “You sure Dean?” Dean nodded quickly. Sam’ mouth returned and soon Dean felt one of Sam’s oh-so-long fingers sneak in beside it. “Oh God! Sammy!” The unexpected pleasure of his brother’s finger being in him was driving Dean to the brink. 

Sam added a second finger beside his tongue, fucking in and out several times, before pulling his tongue out so he could sit back and watch Dean come apart. He fucked his fingers in and out of Dean, watching as they disappeared into his brother and watching as the expression on his brother’s face dissolved into only pleasure. Sam crooked his long fingers and felt the spongy bundle of nerves and pressed in.

“Fuck! Sammy! Oh, Sammy, fuck yes…” Sam was entranced by the sight of Dean completely giving in to desire ignited by his little brother. “Dean…De, can I…? Another?” 

“Yes, Sam, please, yes.” Sam added a third finger, fucking his long digits into his brother and crooking them over that spot until Dean was fucking back into his hand.

“Sammy,” Dean breathed, “Sammy, I want…will you…can we?”

“What Dean? Tell me what you want.” Sam said gently.

Dean’s hands framed Sam’s face and pulled him closer, Dean kissed him, full and deep and endless. “Sammy, I want you. In me. Please?” Dean’s green eyes, so full of every emotion they’d been through together the last months met Sam’s hazel tear rimmed ones. Sam nodded, then kissed Dean back matching every sentiment Dean had poured out.

  
Sam pulled back from his brother and went to his bag to get the lube. He returned to the bed and knelt between Dean’s thighs again and slicked his aching hard cock. He looked into his brothers eyes and asked one more time, “You sure, De?” Dean nodded, “Yeah , Sammy. ‘m sure.”

Sam leaned forward and positioned himself to line up his dick with Dean’s stretched, pink hole. He bent his head forward and kissed Dean deeply as he slowly slid into his brother. He felt Dean tense and he paused. He broke the kiss long enough to whisper into Dean’s ear, “Relax big brother, just breathe and let me in, De.” He felt Dean take a deep shaky breath and his muscles loosened around Sam. Sam recaptured Dean’s kiss swollen mouth as he drove the rest of the way into Dean. 

When Sam bottomed out in Dean their kiss was broken as each threw their head back and moaned, deep and loud. Sam felt himself surrounded by Dean, his De, and it was more than just fucking his brother…it was as though he felt every thought and emotion and everything there was that made up Dean in this moment. He dropped his head into the crook of Dean’s neck as he began to slowly withdraw.

Dean felt every inch of his little brother inside him. It wasn’t just being filled, it was like being whole. Like Sam had been the piece Dean needed to understand every feeling he’d ever had. And he knew, deal or not, he couldn’t leave now…He couldn’t give this up. He could not leave his baby boy behind. A tear escaped the side of his eye and slid down his face soaking into the pillow below him. He wrapped his arms around Sammy and held tight.

Sam could feel it, the moment when this went beyond physical pleasure for his brother. He moved his hips in long, slow thrusts in and out of his brother, feeling every bit of tight heat with each movement. He knew he’d never be able to give this up. It felt more real and true than it had any right to, and the thought that he would be losing Dean in less than a year tore at him. He shook in an involuntary sob as he laid his head back down on Dean’s shoulder. 

They held each other like that for full minutes, each clinging to the brother they’d never know how to lose, as Sam moved shallowly in and out of Dean. When Sam felt the tingling building low in his belly, he lifted himself off Dean’s chest and adjusted the angle until he found the sweet spot inside his brother that made him arch and yell out, “Sammy!”

Sam and Dean looked into each other’s eyes as Sam plunged in and out of Dean, working Dean’s prostate with every thrust. Sam reached between them and wrapped one of his immense hands around Dean’s cock and pumped in time with his thrusts.

Sam felt Dean’s inner muscles begin to tighten and he drove into him faster, trying to meet his brother’s impending release.

“Oh, fuck. Sammyyyy!” Dean cried out as he came hard and long between them.

Sam answered with a roared, “Dean!” as he shot deep into his brother. He worked them through the aftershocks, both trembling with it, before gently pulling from Dean and collapsing on the bed next to his brother.

  
Neither spoke; Dean wrapped an arm around Sammy and pulled him close, resting Sam’s head on his chest over Dean’s heart. Sam wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and snugged his head in under Dean’s chin. They lay there together, just breathing until just before dozing off Dean quietly whispered, “I’m so sorry, baby boy.”

  
Sam lay there for over an hour, listening to Dean’s breathing. He wanted nothing more than to stay there in Dean’s arms for the night, but first he had something to finish. Sam quietly got up from the bed, untangling himself from Dean’s limbs carefully. When Dean started to wake, Sam leaned down shushing him and kissing his eyelids. Dean fell back to sleep, and Sam silently dressed, picked up his bag and snuck out the door.

  
He got in the Impala and drove to the crossroads outside of town. Sam crouched down in the middle, using his hands to bury the small box with all the necessary items. He stood, brushing his hands on his pants and looked around for the demon he needed to see. 

A petite brunette appeared, “Well. Little Sammy Winchester,” the demon said, her eyes glowing red, “I'm touched. I mean...your brother's been to see me twice, but you? I never had the pleasure.”

Sam just glared at her. There was no humor in this situation and he was past his patience in dealing with these evil demon bitches. 

“What can I do for you, Sam?”

In answer Sam pulled the Colt out and pointed it straight at the crossroad demon. “You can beg for your life.”

“We were having such a nice conversation, then you had to go and ruin the mood.”

“If I were you I'd drop the wisecracks and start acting scared.”

She laughed gently and shook her head. “It's not my style. That's not the original Colt. Where did you get that?”

Sam just stared at her in silence. 

“Ruby. Had to be. She is such a pain in my ass. She'll get what's coming to her... “ the demon paused, “you can count on it.”

“I came here to make you an offer,” Sam started.

“You're gonna make _me_ an offer? That's adorable.”

“You can let Dean out of his deal right now. He lives, I live. You live. Everyone goes home happy. Or...” Sam pulled the Colt back, cocked it, then leveled it at her heart, “You stop breathing. Permanently.”

“Oh,” she said, laughing, “All this tough talk,” she began pacing a slow circle around Sam and he tracked her with the colt. “I have to tell you, it's not very convincing. I mean, come on Sam. Do you even wanna break the deal?”

“What do you think?”

“I don't know. Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him.”

“Watch your mouth.” Sam’s anger grew at the accusation.

“Admit it. You're here, going through the motions. But truth is…you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone.”

“Shut up.”

“No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally be free,” she taunted.

“I said. shut. up!” Sam shouted at her. 

“Huh. Doth protest too much if you ask me.”

“All right, enough of your crap. You let Dean out of his deal right now.”

“Sorry sweetheart, but your brother's an adult. He made that deal of his own free will, fair and square. It's iron clad.”

“Every deal can be broken.”

“Not this one.”

“Fine. Then I'll kill you. If you're gone, so's the deal.” Sam didn’t really care one way or the other, as long as Dean lived.

The demon just laughed at Sam, “Guess again.”

“What?”

“Sam, I'm just a sales woman. I got a boss like everybody. He holds the contract, not me. He wants Dean's soul, bad. And believe me. He's not going to let it go.”

“You're bluffing.”

“Am I? Shoot me, if it'll get you off, but the deal still holds, and when Dean's time is up, he's getting dragged into the pit.”

“Then who's your boss?” Sam lowered the Colt, “Who holds the contract?”

“He's not as cuddly as me I can tell you that.”

“Who is it?”

“I can't tell you. I'm sorry Sam. There's no way outta this one. Not this time.” Sam looked at the ground and swallowed. His emotions and thoughts tore at him, what if he really couldn’t save Dean? Well, if he couldn’t save his brother, there was at least a little revenge. He sighed and raised the gun swiftly, shooting the demon between the eyes. Sam watched calmly as her body hit the ground with a thump.

  
Sam walked back to the car and folded himself into the driver’s seat. He looked across the seat to Ruby and said, “Ok, I’m in. What do I have to do to save my brother?”   
  
  
[Chapter 5](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/3048.html)

[Master Post](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8171.html?view=88555#t88555)


	5. Chapter 5

**AN #1** : Once again I have abused Show’s words to satisfy my own twisted musings. This time the dialogue comes from 3.06 “Red Sky at Morning” and 3.07 “Fresh Blood”

  
** Worth It, Chapter 5 **

Dean lay still with controlled breathing feigning sleep. Once the door clicked shut behind Sam he opened his eyes, but waited until hearing the Impala pull away before he moved. He looked in the bag he’d heard Sam shuffle through and found the Colt missing.

“Dammit, Sam.”

* * * * *

“So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs. You got something to tell me?” Dean asked, giving Sam that look that said his patience was already paper thin.

Sam decided to play dumb, he wasn’t sure exactly what Dean had found out, a lot had happened since Maple Springs and he didn’t want to give anything away “It's not your birthday.”

“No.”

“Happy... Purim?” Sam said with a smirk, “Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking –”

“There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened?” Dean paused and Sam simply gave a small shake of his head, so Dean went on, “I know it wasn't me. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans...”

“Dean,” Sam said with a note of warning.

“You went after her, didn't you? The Crossroads Demon. After I told you not to.” Dean had completely lost any patience he’d started with and was nearly shouting at his little brother.

“Yeah, well...” Sam was completely unapologetic. 

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Dean was pissed; he couldn’t believe Sam’s recklessness.

“I didn't.” Sam stated plainly.

“And you shot her.” Dean accused.

“She was a smartass.” Sam quipped, hoping a bit of sarcasm might dispel a little of Dean’s ire.

“So, what? Does that mean I'm out of my deal?” Dean was trying to keep his voice even, but Sam noticed the tiny note of hopefulness behind his brother’s façade.

“Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean? No. Someone else holds the contract.” Sam hated to crush the little bit of optimism Dean seemed to have, but his brother deserved the truth. And besides, now Sam was working on his own plan to save his brother.

“Who?” Dean demanded.

“She wouldn't say.”

“Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute...” Dean was back to being pissed with his irking little brother.

“That's not funny.”

“No, it's not! It was a stupid freaking risk, and you shouldn't have done it.” Dean shook his head, the emotion in his voice as much a result of increasing frustration with himself and his deal as with his headstrong little brother who kept poking at things that might end in Sam’s death.

“I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?” Sam had begun in anger, but by the time he finished, there were tears in his eyes. How could he possibly ever be sorry for doing anything, everything he could to save Dean? He closed his eyes as his mind wandered to the night before.

  
_ Sam had once again waited for Dean to fall asleep, then quietly snuck out of the motel room. This time he walked, afraid the rumble of the Impala’s engine would rouse his ever vigilant brother. _

_ It was only a couple of miles down the road, a large dilapidated old barn that at one point had probably been red. He heard the shouts as he approached the building before he even opened the door. Inside Ruby had a man tied to a chair, his eyes black. Sam saw the devil’s trap painted onto the old boards beneath him. _

_ “Heya, Sam. Ready to start? Or ya gonna go all doe-eyed and wuss out on me again?” She was smirking and Sam once again wished there was any other way to help his brother besides aligning himself with a smart-ass demon. _

_ “I’m ready. What do I do?” _

_ “Well, first we’ve gotta tap into that power old yellow eyes gave you.” _

_ Sam flinched, he’d promised Dean he wouldn’t touch that psychic mess. He knew he’d have to hide things from Dean, but overtly breaking a promise felt so wrong it made his skin go tight. _

_ Ruby interrupted his thoughts, “Sam? If you want to save Dean, this is the way. The only way.” _

_ Sam looked at her. He thought of Dean, he thought of watching his brother die, he thought about how he wouldn’t possibly survive that loss. It made his decision easy. However, broken promise or not, there was one problem with Ruby’s plan, “But, since we killed him, that’s all gone. I haven’t had visions or anything else in months.”  _

_ “It’s still there, Sammy-boy. We just have to wake it back up.” _

* * * * *

Sam and Dean rode in the Impala in silence. It never sat well with either of them when they failed in a case. Watching that guy drown in his car as they tried in vain to get to him, it seemed to have pushed Sam’s buttons harder than Dean’s this time. Dean couldn’t stand to see Sammy this miserable, especially over something that was just unavoidable. They’d done everything, sometimes there was just no saving someone. Dean shut off the radio and looked at his brother, “Do you wanna say it or should I?”

“What?” Sam asked, a pained expression on his face.

“You can’t save everybody, Sam.”

“Yeah, right, so – so what, you feel better now or what?” Sam’s tone was an attempt at snipe, but his face still wore that same defeated sad expression that told Dean there was no real heat behind the words.

“No, not really,” Dean said with a sigh.

“Me neither,” Sam said, voice so quiet it could barely be heard.

“You gotta understa-“ Dean started.

“It’s just lately, I feel like I can’t save anybody.” Sam looked down at his hands then out the window of the Impala. Watching that guy die had only reminded him that in months he might have to watch his own brother go to hell, because of a deal he’d made for Sam. 

He’d been working with Ruby, but he wasn’t sure it was going to be enough. And some of the things she suggested were just…well, there were certain things Sam just couldn’t justify. Because if it worked and he saved Dean he’d have to explain it, and while Sam would do _anything_ to save his brother, he couldn’t stand the thought of doing something that would alter Dean’s opinion of him, that would change the way his older brother looked at him forever.

_ “So, how do we do that? Wake them up?” _

_ “Practice, Sammy.” _

_ “Stop calling me that. It’s Sam.” Ruby just rolled her eyes. “Practice how?” He asked her. _

_ “You gotta concentrate, Sam. Find that dark place in the back of your mind you know is still there. Even if you won’t acknowledge it.” _

_ Sam just glared at the demon. He wanted to say she didn’t know what she was talking about. That he had chased the dark forces out of his mind. That he would never poke at the things that might turn him into the monster his brother would never touch, would never be able to love. _

_ Instead he told the truth. “I can barely tell it’s still there. Anytime I try to look there it moves, like something that’s always in my peripheral vision.” _

_ “So let it be on the edge…don’t chase it, don’t look directly at it; just wait for it to come out and take the lead.” _

_ And so Sam relaxed…and waited for the darkest part of his mind to lead the rest of him to the way to save his brother. _

* * * * *

They’d solved the case, and managed to save Bella, which Sam guessed was probably the right thing to do, and besides, they were up 10 grand now, so not a total loss. Dean was back in Baby’s driver’s seat and was talking about what they’d do with their newfound wealth.

“Seriously, Atlantic City?” Sam asked.

“Hell yeah, play some roulette. Always bet on black,” Dean said, his trademark grin in place. He paused and his expression became more serious. “Hey listen I've been doing some thinking, um, I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon.”

Sam sighed heavily; he wasn’t sure he was ready for another discussion about how he should just sit back and let his brother die.

“And if the situation was reversed I guess I'da done the same thing. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you’re going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be ok.”

“Hmph, you think so?” Sam asked, more than a little irritated with Dean’s ongoing attitude in this matter. Going away? Going away?! He wasn’t going away, he was dying. Leaving Sam alone. Forever.

“Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know, you live your life. You’re stronger than me, you are-” Dean was interrupted by a grunt from his brother, but he continued his thought anyway “you are... you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, sorry for... putting you through all this, I am.”

“You know what Dean, go screw yourself.” Sam had really had enough of this. Dean couldn’t even see what it was that actually had Sam so frustrated. And he really missed what the true underlying problem was.

“What?” Dean’s tone was clipped. He was trying, trying to see Sam’s side and he was even allowing himself to have a girly discussion about his feelings. And here Sam is being pissy, sporting his most irritating bitchface. 

“I don't want an apology from you - and by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, well, excuse me.” Dean was confused by Sam’s sudden outburst.

“So will you please stop worrying about me,” Sam went on, unfazed by Dean’s sarcasm, “I mean that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you’re dying!” Sam waited, but Dean remained doggedly silent, wearing that damn smirk. “So, what, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?”

Dean looked straight ahead through the windshield of the Impala, “I think maybe I'll play craps.”

Sam just shook his head and turned to look out the window, tears clouding his hazel eyes. Unbelievable. Dean really was going to keep shutting him out on this. His brother was the most exasperating person on the planet. Despite everything they’d been through and the new deeper level of their relationship, Dean was still the same stubborn big brother he’d always been.

The rest of the ride passed slowly in loaded silence. Dean parked the Impala and went to check them in, while Sam went to the trunk to retrieve their bags. Sam followed Dean to the room and waited as he unlocked the door, then shoved past him into the room, dropping the bags on the floor. He saw the two beds and huffed out a harsh breath through his nose. He crouched, opened his bag and pushed through it grabbing out his shower bag and heading for the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him, then leaned on the counter. 

His brother was so dense, could he really not see what it was that was actually bothering Sam here? Sam was facing the possibility of losing Dean forever; of having to live out the rest of his life with half his soul torn from him and left to burn and rot in hell. And Dean was asking Sam to just let that happen, he couldn’t. No way he could just sit back on his ass while the center of his world collapsed. The separate beds, the hot and cold between him and Dean in the newest aspect of their relationship, just made everything hurt more. He needed to be as close to Dean for every second that he had while he had him during these last few months. He cursed and slammed his hands on the counter. Sam stripped and got in the shower, ready to wash this vile day off his skin.

Sam came out of the bathroom to find Dean already mostly asleep on one of the beds. He knew he should probably tuck himself into the other bed; that that was most likely what Dean had wanted when he’d gotten a room with separate beds. But as he looked at the cold empty bed, he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to be that far from his brother right now. He pulled back the covers and slid in behind Dean. Dean snuffled and shifted, “Sammy?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep but hopeful.

“This ok with you Dean?” Sam asked, needing to be close to Dean, but not wanting to push either.

“’Course it is, baby boy.” Dean said, rolling over to face his brother. “Didn’t think you’d wanna…thought you’d want your space tonight. After, you know, after … what you, how you sounded in the-”

Sam took pity on his brother’s stumbling and cut him off with a kiss. “Don’t need space, need you.” Another kiss. “Jerk.”

Dean grinned against Sam’s lips, “Bitch.”

* * * * *

The next night Dean went to blow off some steam at the local bar, and possibly hustle them a little extra cash. Sam had feigned a headache and stayed behind. Now he stood with Ruby in another abandoned building, doing more “practice.”

Hooking into his latent dark powers had been easier than he’d initially thought. It seemed once he let go of his reservations around it and had good enough motivation he slipped all-too-easily into his abilities.

With Ruby’s help he’d quickly progressed through visions to telekinesis. He was finding that moving things with his thoughts was both easier and more exhausting than he would have believed. He left every session with Ruby depleted, his brain pounding in his skull.

“Very good, Sam,” Ruby said as Sam held out his hand and her knife hovered in front of a captive demon’s face. “But if you don’t pick up the pace a little, by the time you’re able to do what your brother needs he’ll already be a hellhound’s chew-toy.”

“I can’t do that Ruby. Not what you’re asking.” There were lines Sam just could not cross. He wouldn’t become a monster; something Dean would hunt rather than love.

“I’m telling you, we aren’t gonna get past the little tricks and onto the stuff that actually matters without the proper…preparations.” 

“No.” Sam said simply, sternly.

“Look, all you need is a little taste. You’ll see what it does, then you decide if it’s what you want, or if you’re going back to hours of fruitless searches through musty old books for an answer that just isn’t there.” She plucked her knife from the air and drew the blade over her forearm and held it toward Sam.

“No, Ruby!” Sam shouted pushing her back, “I am not drinking demon blood!” 

Sam had found his line. He turned and walked away from the demon without looking back.

* * * * *

Dean sat at the bar. He should probably be hustling them a little extra money, they really could use the cash. But his head just wasn’t in it tonight. Something was going on with Sam, and he could not piece it together. He was pretty sure there had been nights since the crossroad demon that Sam had snuck out, times he’d not been where he was supposed to be researching or whatever. Dean had no idea what Sam was up to, but Sam seemed different.

_ “That vampire's still out there, Dean,” Sam had said, cleaning his gun as Dean sharpened his machete.  _

_ “First things first,” Dean replied. _

_ “Gordon.” _

_ “About that. When we find him, or if he finds us... I'm just saying he's not leaving us a whole lot of options.” Dean knew they were going to have to kill Gordon. Kill a human, and Sam’s moral compass would likely try to point them in a different direction. _

_ “Yeah, I know. We've got to kill him,” Sam replied, calm and even. Dean just about fell out of his chair. This was not Sammy. _

_ “Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like,” Dean’s voice went into a whiny tone to mock his little brother: “ ‘No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong.’ ” _

_ “No, I'm done,” Sam had answered. “Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead... or till he is.” _

That was true, that part wasn’t what bothered Dean. It was the matter-of-fact tone his usually emotionally torn little brother had used. Something was changing in Sam, and Dean wasn’t sure what it was, or what it meant.

* * * * *

Sam was sitting in the motel, looking over maps trying to narrow down where the now vampire-Gordon might be. He was atempting to focus on finding Gordon and not think about how Dean had been acting like a freakin’ kamikaze during this hunt. Offering himself as bait to a vampire, running out to draw Gordon and his pal’s gunfire, suddenly it was as if it didn’t matter to Dean if he got the last months of his life or not. 

Dean came through the door in a huff, tugging off his jacket and throwing it on a chair. “Man, I must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses,” Dean said.

“Yeah, me too. Big city.”

Dean was bent washing his face in the sink, “It's like a giant haystack, and Gordon's a deadly needle. We're running out of daylight. Won't have the sun slowing him down.”

“Yeah, he'll be unstoppable. Hey, uh, give me your phone,” Sam said already reaching for Dean’s cell.

“What for?” Dean asked, handing it over.

“Well, if Gordon knows our cell numbers he can use the cell signal to track us down,” Sam replied, pulling out the SIM cards from the phones.

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Dean looked through the faded motel curtains as Sam dropped both phones on the ground and stomped on them, breaking them into pieces. Dean turned from the window and strode toward Sam with that posture that said he’d made a decision.

“Sammy, stay here,” Dean said, pulling the Colt from his bag.

“What? Where you going now?” Sam asked.

Dean checked the Colt over, preparing it, “I'm going after Gordon.”

“What?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“You heard me,” Dean answered.

“Not alone, you're not,” Sam stated.

“Sam, I don't need you to sign me a permission slip, okay? He's after you, not me, and he's turbocharged. I want you to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it.” Dean had quickly and easily entered his take-charge and protect Sammy big brother mode, but Sam was in no mood for it.

“You're not going by yourself, you're gonna get killed.”

“Just another day at the office. It's a massively dangerous day at the office…” Dean quipped.

Sam found no humor in Dean’s half-ass attempt at a joke, and saw no merit in Dean going out and risking his life. “So you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh wait, let me guess. Because, uh, it's because you're already dead, right?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your kamikaze trip,” Sam’s voice was becoming more intense, filled with all the frustration and hurt and irritation and love and every other emotion he’d been dragged through the last couple of months since Dean had made that damn deal.

“Whoa, whoa, kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja,” Dean recognized Sam’s tone and responded as he often did by trying to lighten the mood with humor. Sam wasn’t laughing.

“That's not funny.”

“It's a little funny,” Dean tried.

“No, it's not.”

“What do you want me to do, Sam, huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see, what rhymes with ‘shut up, Sam’?” Dean had made it this far with minimal chick-flick moments, and he was not ready for it now.

“Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.” Sam’s tone had evened out, but his eyes were still filled with all that emotion.

“I'm not!”

“You're lying. You may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.” Sam’s voice softened more and he took a step towards his brother.

“You got no idea what you're talking about,” Dean said, but he couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes, so he turned and took a step away.

Sam closed the distance between them. He put his hand under Dean’s chin and lifted until his brother’s emerald gaze met his own. “Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.” 

Dean swallowed hard “And how do you know that?” he whispered

Sam’s hands move to cradle Dean’s face, thumb smoothing over the stubbled jaw. “Because I know you.”

Dean pulled away and stepped back, “Really?” 

“Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world.” Tears were in Sam’s eyes and his voice trembled, “And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just...”

“What?”

Sam stepped back up to his brother, “I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... just 'cause.” The tears were threatening to escape his eyes by the time he finished, and he pulled his lower lip between his teeth.

Dean felt the raw emotion in what Sam was saying, and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Sam was right. His little brother knew him better than he knew himself most days.

“All right, we'll hole up,” Dean said quietly, reaching his hand up to cup Sam’s jaw, “Cover our scent so he can't track us, and wait the night out here.” Sam sniffled and nodded. Dean leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his brother’s pink lips. Sam captured Dean’s face in his big hands and pulled him back in, deepening the kiss. Sam’s tongue traced the full pout of Dean’s lower lip and then took the offered entrance into his brother’s mouth.

Dean pulled Sam in the few inches that remained between them and wrapped his arms around his brother. His hands slid up Sam’s strong, muscled back and into his hair. Sam moaned when Dean buried his hands there and tugged a little on the shaggy locks. Dean groaned and pushed harder into Sammy’s mouth.

Dean’s phone rang in his pocket and both Winchester’s cursed at the interruption.

“You’ve had that phone two hours, Dean. Who’d you give the number to?”

“Nobody,” Dean answered before picking up the call.

“Dean,” Gordon’s voice came over the line, dragging the brothers from their moment back into the hunt.

* * * * *

Dean had completely freaked out when he and Sam got separated in that warehouse. Knowing vamped-out Gordon was on a mission to kill his brother, and that Dean was suddenly completely unable to protect Sammy…it had been too much. But then, watching Sam sever Gordon’s head with razor wire…Dean had a rare moment of seeing Sam as the full-grown man he now was and not the little boy whose care Dean had been charged with.

Now, as he bent under the hood of the Impala, he wanted to give Sam a moment of the big brother he said he’s been missing.

“Figure out what's making that rattle?” Sam asked.

“Not yet,” Dean answered, “Give me a box wrench, would you?”

Sam stood pulled the wrench from the tool box and handed it to his brother, “Yeah. There you go.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, then paused looking at his little brother, “Sam.”

“Wrong one?”

“No, come here for a second.”

Sam stood and walked over to his brother, looking into the engine, “Yeah?”

“This rattle could be a couple of things,” Dean said, motioning toward the engine, “I'm thinking it's an out-of-tune carb.”

Sam wrinkled his brow in confusion, “Okay.”

“All right, see this thing?” Dean went on, “It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench.” Sam handed over the tool. “All right, you with me so far?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads.”

“Very good,” Dean praised, “This is your intake manifold, and on top of it?”

Sam smiled, distant memories floating in his mind providing the answer to Dean’s question along with a pleasant nostalgia, “It's, uh, a carburetor.”

“Carburetor... very good.”

“What's with the auto shop?” Sam asked, wondering where Dean was headed with all this. Dean held out the socket wrench towards his little brother. “You don't mean you want...” Sam asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah, I do. You fix it.” Dean stated.

“Dean, you barely let me drive this thing,” protested Sam.

“Well, it's time,” Dean had looked down, but he tipped his head back up to meet Sam’s gaze as he said, “You should know how to fix it. You're gonna need to know these things for the future.” He handed Sam the socket wrench and a weighted sigh escaped his brother’s mouth. “And besides, that's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?”

Tears prickled Sam’s eyes again as it became clear what Dean was doing. Sam had asked for Dean to drop his act and just be the big brother again, and Dean was giving Sammy exactly what he wanted. As Dean always had done, for Sam’s entire life. Sam nodded, took the wrench and leaned under the hood. He began unscrewing the bolts and Dean sat down on the cooler watching.

“Put your shoulder into it,” Dean said, taking a sip of beer.Sam chuckled and smiled fondly, though the tears were still there.    
  
  
[Chapter 6](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/3470.html?view=33678#t33678)

[Master Post](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8171.html)


	6. Chapter 6

**Warnings** : Wincest, truckloads of schmoop, brief mention of wee-schmoop (nothing graphic)  
 **AN #1** : A very special update…borrowing dialogue from 3.08 “A Very Supernatural Christmas.” Of course there is a very good chance that I have completely corrupted it for my own devices.

  
  
** Worth It, Chapter 6 **

  
  
The boys were walking through a snowless, sorry excuse for a Christmas village. This latest hunt seemed to be plucking at strong emotions for both Winchesters, although they were apparently quite different sentiments. Sam had grown especially sullen and Dean uncharacteristically nostalgic as they worked a case where it appeared Santa Claus was involved in some untimely deaths

"It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied, "but anti-claus? Couldn’t be."

"It’s a Christmas miracle. Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year." Dean said, just a hint of uncertainty creeping into his usual cocky tone.

"Have one what?" Sam asked.

"A Christmas," Dean answered his voice a mix of matter-of-fact with just a tinge of hope and insecurity.

Sam scoffed before he replied, "No, thanks."

"No? We’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were kids."

"Dean, those weren’t exactly hallmark memories for me, you know," Sam said with an edge of something Dean couldn't quite identify.

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases." Dean knew they hadn't had the perfect childhood but he remembered at least a few holidays watching Sammy's face light up at whatever Dean had been able to put together for a gift. That bright dimpled smile had been enough to put Dean on a high for a week. Sam's smile still had that effect on Dean.

"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam asked, voice somewhere between disbelief and irritation.

"Oh, come on, Sam," Dean tried.

"No, just… no," Sam's shoulders slumped and he looked defeated, but his jaw held that clenched line that said Sam Winchester had made up his mind and would not be moved.

Dean was honestly surprised, and simply said, "All right, Grinch," before walking away.

Sam looked after Dean as he walked away, and felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't wanted to put that disappointed look on his brother's face, but he truly couldn't even imagine trying to celebrate a family holiday knowing that by the time the next Christmas came around, Dean could be dead. Working with Ruby had seemed like his last chance and he hadn’t spoken to the blonde demon since the day he walked away from her outstretched hemorrhaging arm.

  
* * * * *

  
After they left the Christmas village, Dean had cut Sam a little slack, and dropped the holiday talk. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was triggering in his little brother, but it was obviously striking some nerve pretty hard. They’d stopped at a diner on the way back and picked up food before returning to the motel. Sam’s mood seemed to improve as they sat on the bed together watching an old movie which Dean had allowed his little brother to choose. 

  
Sam was propped against the headboard, with Dean lying across his chest, tracing something into the muscles of Sam’s abdomen. Sam wasn’t sure if it was words, or sigils or just some random design. He didn’t much care, time like this with Dean was rare and he was soaking it in. 

  
“Hey, Sam,” Dean said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?” Dean asked.

“Dean –” Sam started but was cut off by his brother.

“I mean, I admit it. We had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids.” Dean tried.

“’Bumpy’?” Sam asked, stunned by his brother’s over-simplification.

Dean leaned up on his elbow and looked deep into Sam’s hazel eyes, “That was then. We’ll do it right this year, Sammy.” Sam sighed, he hated to disappoint his brother, but he just couldn’t imagine celebrating a stupid holiday while knowing his brother was months from dying.

“Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don’t involve me,” Sam said and pressed Dean back as he pushed up from the bed.

Dean’s look was somewhere between a hurt little boy and a sullen teenager, “Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds.” Sam felt like a heel, but he just couldn’t find any holiday spirit no matter how hard he tried, not even for the brother he loved more than he could put into words. He bent and placed a kiss on Dean’s full lips and whispered “I’m sorry, Dean. I just can’t.” Then he turned and went to the bathroom to shower.

  
* * * * *

  
Dean entered the motel room ahead of Sam, “How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would’ve cost?” he asked, shucking his jacket and tossing it over a chair. Sam removed his own jacket and tossed it on top of his brother’s, “A couple of hundred dollars at least,” he answered, stepping up behind Dean and snaking his arms around Dean’s waist. 

A small smile started to spread across Dean’s mouth, “This lady’s giving them away for free? What do you think about that?” Dean leaned back into his little brother. Sam didn’t seem to be able to stop touching him since they’d gotten to this town. Not that he minded, not one bit. He hadn’t quite figured out why, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Mm,” Sam said, placing small kisses on Dean’s neck, “Well, sounds pretty suspicious.” Dean tilted his head allowing Sam full access to his throat, and Sam accepted the invitation by sucking a mark into the skin just below Dean’s left ear. Dean moaned and his hands reached behind him to wrap around Sam and pull him closer. Sam just continued lazily placing slow open-mouthed kisses over his brother’s freckled skin, every so often letting his tongue sneak out to taste salt and Dean.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean started, that small smile back on his full lips, “Remember that wreath dad brought home that one year?”

Sam huffed, the breath hitting Dean’s ear, “Do you mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?”

Dean chuckled and jumped as Sam’s teeth found purchase in his ear lobe, “Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.” The kissing stopped and Sam sighed and dropped his forehead down onto Dean’s shoulder. 

Sam stepped back and Dean turned to face him. “All right… dude,” Sam said, “What’s going on with you?”

“What?” Dean asked.

“I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad?” Sam couldn’t remember the last time Dean had been this persistent about a holiday and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why he was pressing the issue now. 

“Why are you so against it? Were your childhood memories that traumatic?” Dean asked, his green eyes flashing with something between anger and hurt.

“No, that has nothing to do with it.” Sam replied, sitting wearily down on the bed.

“Then what?” Dean asked, his tone more gentle as he sat down next to his brother on the scratchy motel comforter. He looked into Sam’s hazel eyes, searching.

“I-I mean, I-I just, I don’t get it,” Sam said stumbling over his words, “You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

Dean’s gaze fell and when he spoke his voice was quiet and small but full of emotion, “Well yeah, this is my last year, Sammy.” Dean reached out and stroked a hand over Sam’s hair, pushing a few wayward strands off his forehead.

Sam took a shaking breath and waited until he thought his voice wouldn’t waver before saying, “I know… That’s why I can’t.” He smiled sadly and turned his face into Dean’s hand, placing a kiss in the callused palm.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked gently. He wasn’t usually given to these discussions, but Sam seemed to really need this right now, and the reason for the endless touching was becoming clearer to Dean.

Sam sighed again and swiped his knuckles across his now damp eyes, “I mean I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay. When I know next Christmas you’ll be dead.” Sam’s voice cracked on the last word, which brought glistening tears to Dean’s green eyes as he nodded at his little brother. “I just can’t.” Sam finished as the tears started tracking down his cheeks. 

Dean cupped Sam’s face, rubbing rough thumbs over his cheeks to wipe away tears. More crystalline drops followed and Dean leaned forward and kissed them from his baby brother’s cheeks. His hands slid back into Sam’s hair and he pulled Sam forward into a kiss. Sam needed more than Dean was able to say with words right now. He needed to feel Dean, know he was real and still here; and Dean would always give Sam what he needed. Dean kissed Sam’s pink lips full and deep, with enough force for Sam to feel the connection, but still so gentle that it radiated pure love. Sam kissed back, matching every motion and emotion from his brother. 

Dean stood, and Sam whimpered at the sudden loss of contact. “Easy, baby boy. I’m right here, not going anywhere now. I gotcha.” Dean stripped his own shirt off then reached for the hem of Sam’s. Sam lifted his arms over his head and Dean pulled the shirt off and tossed it into the corner. He straddled Sam’s lap and pressed their chests together and brought his lips back to Sam’s. Sam kissed Dean with everything, as if trying to brand himself into Dean’s very soul. As if Sam loved him enough, it could undo Dean’s deal.

Dean held tight, wrapping his arms around Sam’s strong shoulders. Sam’s arms came up behind Dean, trying to pull him in even closer, hands roaming over his big brother’s back and neck, scratching through his short hair, then down his sides, landing on Dean’s hips and tugging him in. Dean moaned as Sam’s movements brought their rapidly filling dicks into contact. Sam arched up and Dean pushed down, each seeking friction and connection.

“Dean…”Sam started breathlessly, “I n-need..please, De..”

“Shh,” Dean soothed, “I know, Sammy. ‘sOkay. Right here, little brother, right here.” Dean stood them up, he kissed down the honeyed skin of Sam’s chest as his hands worked open the button and fly of Sam’s jeans. He pushed his hands under the waistband of Sam’s boxers, palms caressing the curve of Sam’s ass as he pushed the material down. He knelt in front of his little brother and removed his shoes and socks and Sam stepped out of his jeans and boxers. 

Dean moved to unbutton his own jeans, but Sam’s big hands stopped him. Sam knelt in front of his beautiful older brother and placed a reverent kiss to Dean’s navel, as long fingers deftly unfastened Dean’s jeans pulling them open. Sam could see there was already a wet spot forming on the front of Dean’s boxers and he leaned forward and nuzzled his brother through his boxers, inhaling his scent deep. Dean whined out a moan above him and Sam opened his mouth, his hot breath reaching Dean through the damp fabric. Sam looked up at Dean through his bangs as he slowly pulled Dean’s boxers down enough to free his hard cock. 

As Sam took the leaking tip into his mouth, Dean reached down and cupped his little brother’s cheek. Sam closed his eyes and focused on the weight of his brother’s full dick on his tongue as he took Dean deep into his mouth. He wanted to feel every inch, taste every bit of Dean. He wrapped his tongue around the head, swirling around the velvety skin. He pressed the tip of his tongue into the slit tasting the tang of the precome that steadily pulsed out. He moaned at the taste and sensation and the vibrations of that dragged a deep throaty moan from his older brother. Sam took Dean deeper into his mouth, relaxing his throat as best he could to accommodate the girth of his brother. 

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean swore above him, “feels good.” Dean fought the urge to punch his hips forward, and buried his hands in Sam’s too-long hair. At any other time Sam would have been perfectly happy to suck and lick an orgasm out of his brother, but tonight, he wanted something else, needed more. 

He slowly pulled off Dean, placing a kiss to the head before standing and capturing Dean’s already kiss-swollen lips again. Dean moaned at the taste of himself on Sammy’s tongue and he tugged Sam’s hair again bringing him even deeper into the kiss. 

“Dean,” Sam said against his brother’s lips gasped out between breaths, “I need you.”

“I know, Sammy, need you too.” Dean answered, and then reached for another kiss.

“No, I mean, I…Dean I want you-want to feel you…” Sam suddenly felt shy and he ducked his head.

“I’m right here Sammy, feel anything you want,” Dean tried for humor to ease Sam’s sudden and obvious discomfort. Sam smiled, but still didn’t seem to be able to find the words. “Anything you need, little brother, just ask. It’s already yours.”

Sam’s eyes slowly met Dean’s, and one of Sam’s big hands curled around the back of Dean’s neck. “Dean, I want you inside me. Need to feel you. Please. Is that-is that ok?”

Dean felt like the air had been sucked from the room and he went a little dizzy as the last bit of blood in his brain left. “Damn, baby boy,” he whispered, voice husky and sex-rough, “Yeah. Yes, ‘course it is.” They hadn’t done it that way yet, but it wasn’t for lack of desire on Dean’s part. He was just following Sammy’s lead in this, not willing to push for anything his little brother didn’t offer first.

Sam blushed and ducked his head again; Dean reached up and brought their lips together, kissing Sam deep and hot. He laid his little brother down on the bed and reached into the nightstand for the lube. He flicked open the cap and squeezed some onto his finger, then laid down over Sam, leaning into another fierce kiss. Dean’s finger gently traced the rim of Sam’s hole, subtle circles, just teasing. Soon Sam pushed back into Dean’s teasing digit, and Dean watched Sam’s face as he pushed past the muscles and paused. Sam’s face and body tensed for a moment, before Dean felt him take a breath and relax. 

“You ok, Sammy?” Sam nodded and Dean began fucking his finger in and out of his little brother. Sam reached up and pulled Dean’s head down, bringing their lips together. He kissed Dean hungrily, passionately and with all the myriad emotions he felt towards the man who meant everything to him. When Sam seemed to whimper as if deprived, Dean added a second finger and Sam moaned wantonly and arched off the bed. Dean pumped his fingers in and out as he scissored them, opening his brother up. He crooked his fingers experimentally and was rewarded with a near animalistic growl from his little brother. 

“Fuck, Dean. There, again.” Dean was only too happy to oblige his Sammy’s request, pressing against the spongy bundle of nerves over and over until Sam was breathless. “More, Dean, I need more of you.” Dean added a third finger and continued to work his brother open and intermittently massage his sweet spot. Sam was moaning and whimpering and pushing back onto Dean’s fingers when Dean leaned in and whispered, “You ready, baby boy?”

“Yes, Dean, ready. Please, need you, need _all_ of you. Now.” Sam’s dark hazel gaze met Dean’s deep emerald one, and Dean nodded. He pulled his fingers from Sam, that action met with a whine, and he shushed his brother gently. He squeezed out more lube and slicked his blood heavy aching cock, hissing at the contact. Dean lined himself up with Sam’s hole, then propped himself over Sam. He looked directly into Sammy’s eyes as he slid slowly into his brother’s tight heat. Sam tensed again, and Dean leaned down to kiss him, “Just breathe, baby boy, relax.” And as if in some Pavlovian response, Sam’s body immediately relaxed. Sam smiled up at his brother, the full wattage Sam Winchester smile, complete with dimples. It melted Dean and he leaned back down to place a kiss into each dimple. “Gonna kill me, Sammy,” Dean husked out before pushing the rest of the way into Sam’s body. 

Sam moaned and his head fell back, the feeling of being full, filled with _Dean_ , overwhelming him. Dean leaned down and began kissing up the long, tanned column of Sam’s throat, uttering things in between each kiss that Sam couldn’t quite make out, but sounded like “love you””need you” and then when Dean reached his ear, he heard his brother’s gravelly voice clearly as he said, “yours, Sammy, always been yours.” Tears sprang to Sam’s eyes, Dean was giving him so much more than his body right now, he was laying bare his heart and soul. And Sam could appreciate more than anyone else just how much that meant coming from Dean Winchester. 

Sam brought his brother’s mouth back to his for another kiss, then pulled back and looked deep into bright green eyes, “I love you, Dean.” They were words Winchesters didn’t usually use, but Sam needed to say them; needed Dean to hear them. If all Sam got with his brother was the few months remaining of his deal, then he was going to give and take everything he and Dean had ever denied themselves from the other.

“I know Sammy. Love you too, baby boy.” Tears spilled from Sam’s eyes, he’d never expected Dean to want to or be capable of actually voicing those words. He knew Dean felt them, but saying them out loud, that was all for Sam. Dean giving more than he thought he had in himself, for his Sammy, as he always had, always would.

Sam kissed Dean and began moving his hips, signaling his brother he was ready. Dean groaned at the feeling of Sammy moving underneath him. He pulled back slowly, leaving just the head inside, before pushing back into his brother. He made several slow strokes in and out before Sam became impatient and was grabbing at his ass, saying, “More, Dean.” He wrapped his arms under Sam, hooking his hands over his brother’s shoulders to hold him steady as he pumped his hips in an ever increasing rhythm. 

Sam tilted his hips, hoping Dean would connect with that spot again. He nearly screamed when a change in Dean’s angle brought Dean’s cock in direct contact with it. Being so full and surrounded by Dean, then having those nerves pressed, it was nearly too much for Sam. The two brothers held that position, Dean’s cock rubbing over Sam’s prostate, both feeling their climax building steady and fast.

Dean got a hand between them and began pumping Sam’s cock in time with their thrusts. He felt Sam’s fingers digging into the flesh of his back and he knew his brother was close. “Go on, Sammy, come for me.” And that was all it took for Sam to come, hard and long. Hot spurts of come shot over his belly, his chest, “Oh God, Deeee!” he shouted and that name on Sam’s lips while Sam’s inner muscles clenched and fluttered around him was enough to push Dean over the edge too. “Sammyyy!” he shouted as he came buried deep inside his little brother.

Both collapsed on the bed panting and clutching each other. Completely sated and exhausted, emotionally and physically, the Winchesters fell asleep cradled in each other’s arms.

  
* * * * *

  
The sun filtered in through the flimsy worn motel curtains. It danced across the pale freckled skin of Dean’s chest and Sam smiled as it caught and reflected off the amulet that was nestled between the muscles of his brother’s chest. He reached out, capturing the bronze figure between his fingers and turned it over, his smile widening.

Dean stirred as soon as he felt the weight of his amulet lift from his chest. He opened one eye and watched his little brother. Long muscles covered in smooth caramel skin, stretched on the bed beside him. Sammy’s chin resting in his hand over Dean’s heart, his long gentle fingers carefully turning over the amulet as a grin spread across his lips and the dimples appeared in first his left, then his right cheek. Dean smiled and traced a finger through the deeper groove on the left, “Morning, baby boy.”

Sam simply smiled wider in response. “Hey, Dean, remember the year I gave you this?”

“Course I do, Sammy. We were in Nebraska…”

“Dad had stashed us in another shitty motel while he was out ‘on business.’” Dean sighed heavily. He remembered, but he didn’t care for this part of the story.

“Yeah…it was the year you found his journal.” Dean said as his smile faded and he turned his head away from Sam. His little brother finding that journal had meant the discovery that shattered Sam’s innocence. Dean had fiercely protected Sammy from knowing that monsters were real; and hearing his little brother cry himself to sleep after he discovered the truth had hurt. Those tears meant Dean had failed his little brother and that had broken Dean’s heart. He’d wanted to curl around his little brother and hold him. Sam had always turned to Dean for comfort; after every nightmare and skinned knee, it was a hug from his older brother that stopped the tears. But Sam had refused him that night, a first that Dean did not care for in the least. 

Sam saw the emotions flickering through Dean’s green eyes and knew exactly what his brother was thinking. He reached up and gently pulled Dean’s face back towards him, “Don’t do that, Dean. It should never have been your secret to keep. You were just a kid too.” He stretched up and placed a chaste kiss on his brother’s full lips. “Do you remember the next night?”

Dean snorted, “Yeah…I had broken into that nice house, tried to get you some presents.”

“A Barbie and a baton,” Sam laughed.

“Hey, I didn’t know they were chick presents!” Dean said, grinning, “I just wanted you to have Christmas, Sammy. You deserved that.” Dean’s face turned more serious as he met Sam’s gaze.

“I know, Dean. You were always making sure I had everything I needed.” Sam’s hand smoothed up Dean’s jaw and around his head, fingers rubbing through Dean’s short hair. Dean’s cheeks flushed pink under his freckles and he looked away, his gaze landing on the amulet resting on his chest. Sam followed Dean’s line of sight and said quietly, “You always were everything to me, Dean. My whole world. I knew it for sure that day; the day I gave you this.” Sam finished, fingers caressing the amulet resting over Dean’s heart.

Dean’s fingers laced through Sam’s as he said, “I know, Sammy. That’s why I’ve never taken it off. Always wear it close to my heart.”

  
* * * * *

  
As much as both Sam and Dean wanted to spend the rest of the day in bed, they returned to the case. With a little research help from Bobby they figured out it was not Santa Claus, but a couple of pagan gods behind the killings. The Winchesters had finally taken them down with evergreen “stakes” ripped from a fully decorated Christmas tree, before returning to the motel room. 

Sam sent Dean on a beer run, and then rushed to pull out the bag hidden underneath the unused bed. The tree he’d found tossed by the dumpster, probably left by someone checking out earlier that day. He smiled to himself as he hung tree-shaped air-fresheners and fishing bobs from the scant branches; tried to maintain his smile as he strung up the “Merry Christmas” banner, forcing his thoughts away from the words “Dean’s last” in his mind. He took a deep ragged breath. He could do this. For Dean, he could do this. He poured eggnog into plastic cups adding a healthy dose of rum to each, and turned on the Christmas music. Then he waited for the rumble of the Impala’s engine.

  
Dean pulled Baby into the motel lot and turned off the engine. He grabbed the beer from the floor and the newspaper-wrapped packages from the seat and headed into the room. He knew Sam had said no Christmas, but he just couldn’t let the day pass without getting his brother some kind of gift. 

Dean opened the door and was met with just about the last sight he’d expected. A Christmas tree, and lights and his Sammy, holding out a cup of eggnog. Dean couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.

“Hey you get the beer?” Sam asked, handing Dean the plastic cup.

“What’s all this?” Dean asked motioning to the decorations around the room. Sam had to smile at the almost child-like sparkle in Dean’s bright green eyes as he looked around the room.

“What do you think it is? It’s- It’s Christmas.” Sam smiled and shrugged, suddenly a little self-conscious.

“What made you changed your mind?”

Sam ignored the question, not really sure he could find the exact words to explain it and knowing that even if he did find the words, he’d never trust his voice to deliver them. “Here, try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick.” 

Dean took a sip of the thick liquid, his eyes widening when he found more rum than anything else in the drink. “No, we’re good.”

“Yeah?” Sam seemed happy with Dean’s reaction and Dean simply answered “Yeah.”

“Good,” Sam said, “Well uh, have a seat. Let’s do Christmas stuff or whatever.” Dean grinned and the boys sat down, Dean on one of the less-than-sturdy looking kitchenette chairs, Sam on the green vinyl couch.

“All right, first thing’s first. Merry Christmas, Sam,” Dean said, handing his brother the wrapped packages.

Sam smiled as he took them, “Where’d you get these?”

Dean smirked as he answered, “Someplace special.” This was met with a skeptical look from his little brother, so he added, “The gas mart down the street.” Sam just laughed at his brother, who said, “Open them up, Sammy.”

“Well, great minds think alike, Dean.” Sam reached under the couch and pulled out two packages wrapped in comic strips and handed them to his brother.

Dean looked genuinely surprised as he took the gifts, “Really?”

“There you go.”

“Come on,” Dean said, head ducked as he blushed.

Sam laughed as he opened first one, then the other package, “Skin mags!...and…Shaving cream!”

“You like?” Dean asked. Sam wasn’t quite sure why Dean had bought him the porn, but, he smiled anyway.

“Yeah,” he answered, nodding, “Yeah.”

Dean opened his gifts next, a can of oil and a candy bar. He smiled at Sam, eyes crinkling in the corners, “Look at this. Fuel for me and fuel for my baby. These are awesome, thanks.” Sam nodded at him as he said “Good.” Then the sadness he’d been fighting so hard to keep back, crept across his face.

Dean lifted up his plastic cup of eggnog for a toast, “Merry Christmas, bro.”

“Yeah. Merry Christmas.” He said, gently knocking his cup against Dean’s. Both brothers fell into silence. Despite Sam’s attempts to give Dean the last Christmas he wanted and despite Dean’s claims to wanting a regular holiday, the knowledge that this was likely the last Christmas they would spend together suddenly weighed heavily on both of them.

“Hey Dean,” Sam started, his hazel eyes were full of so many emotions and rimmed with tears. He had so many things he wanted to say, but he knew there was no way to say any of them without saying all of them. And everything he felt for Dean was more than could be fit into mere words. So, instead he asked, “Do you feel like watching the game?”

“Absolutely,” Dean answered.

Sam nodded, “Alright,” he said, standing up and turning on the small television. As the game came on, Dean smiled. He looked at Sam, then sipped the eggnog again. His little brother had done this for him, it was clearly tearing him apart, but he was doing it for Dean. He stood and set his eggnog on the coffee table, and then sat down on the sofa. He put his arm along the back and rested his hand on the back of Sam’s neck, letting his fingers creep into the soft chestnut locks.

Sam smiled and leaned back into the touch. He looked over at Dean who crooked his head motioning for Sam to scoot closer. Sam cocked an eyebrow at his brother, “Cuddling? Really?”

Dean rolled his eyes, then smiled. “Yeah, well, it’s Christmas, Sammy. That’s what you really want, right? A nice girly spooning session?”

Sam huffed and shoved Dean’s shoulder for the snide remark, but did scoot in against his brother. He leaned in and rested his head in the crook of Dean’s neck. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of leather and gun powder and engine oil that was home, was Dean. Dean curled his arm around Sam and held him tight against his side. He let his head rest on the top of Sam’s, inhaling the scent of Sammy’s shampoo. He felt more than heard Sam’s gentle laugh beneath him. 

“Dude. You totally just smelled my hair.”

“What? Did not!” Dean sputtered nervously. “I-I I just inhaled and your stupid long hair got in my nose.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam looked up at Dean doubtfully. 

“Whatever. Shut up.” Dean said, using his hand to push Sam’s head back down against his shoulder. Sam just smiled and snuggled back in. If Dean was going to give him a cuddling session, he was going to take full advantage. He wound his arm around Dean’s waist and squeezed.

“Alright, princess, don’t get carried away,” Dean said, but Sam noticed he made no move to stop his little brother.

“Shut up, Jerk.” Sam said. 

“Bitch,” Dean whispered as he leaned down to place a kiss on Sam’s lips.

[Chapter 7](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8428.html)

  



	7. Chapter 7

**Warnings** : Wincest, barebacking  
 **AN #1** : I have borrowed dialogue from 3.09 “Malleus Maleficarum” and 3.10 “Dream a Little Dream of Me”. Of course I can never resist twisting Show’s words for my own amusement.

** Worth It – Chapter 7 **

Sam and Dean took the week between Christmas and New Year’s off; the first vacation they’d allowed themselves in the never-ending battle against all things evil that lurked in the dark. The boys had gotten lost in each other; Sam trying to soak in every second he could with his brother, and Dean being emotionally open in a most uncharacteristic way. It seemed with his impending death, opening the gates on his feelings for his brother became easy.

Initially Sammy just lapped up every bit of his brother’s unusual willingness for PDA’s and declarations of affection. Eventually though, he couldn’t ignore the reason behind Dean’s change in attitude. His brother would die; would go to hell, in a few months, leaving Sam alone and without the center of his soul. He needed all the love Dean was pouring out, and feared what would happen when it was wrenched from him. He was angry; angry with Dean for making the deal. But mostly angry with himself. He’d gotten himself killed so Dean had to make that damn deal to begin with, and then he’d failed to find any way to save his brother. His one lead had been Ruby and he’d chased her away too.

Dean had initially found it hard to expose himself emotionally, but seeing how Sam’s face lit up every time Dean made some girly declaration had only fueled him. He quickly became addicted to that particular glow in Sam’s eyes that only seemed to come from Dean uttering those three words. But as the week wore on two things happened. First, his newfound policy of feeling his feelings had him staring right into the very real terror of actually spending eternity in hell. Second, Sam’s emotions began to swing wildly and sometimes no matter what Dean did or said Sam’s face remained veiled and dark.

Sam’s moods seemed to be on some kind of high-speed see-saw, and Dean, well Dean was still not exactly comfortable being a “feelings” kind of guy. So, as little brother rapid-cycled through teary-eyed pouting sessions and bouts of anger that had him flashing every bitch-face Dean had ever seen and even inventing a few new ones, big brother returned to his comfort zone, pulling out his oldest trick and retreating into himself behind his smirk and sarcastic quips.

  
* * * * *   


It had been weeks since that little vacation. Weeks since Dean had voiced the words Sam never expected to hear. Weeks filled with more cases and less spooning. Their current case focused on witches. Witches, freakin skeevy witches as Dean so fondly referred to them, seemed to be taking out anyone who got in the way of whatever suburban wish was next on their list. The brothers were driving in the Impala working their way through the list of suspects in the coven and seemed to have settled on the most likely murderer.

“Well, I'm already sold on that Elizabeth chick. Did you see that victory garden of hers?” Dean asked, “Belladonna, wolf’s bane, mandrake, not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult.”

Sam flipped through some pages as he replied, “Well, she's definitely had a good run lately, gone up a few tax brackets; won almost too many raffles. Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with.”

“Yeah.” Dean was trying to get a read on Sam, but his brother seemed to be all business.

“I don't think she's alone either, looks like…Mrs. Renee Van Allen has won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months.”

“Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart huh? Except for the devil worship. I'm thinking that was the coven back there we met, minus one member.”

“Amanda was clearly going off the reservation. What, do you think they killed her to keep up appearances?” Sam asked.

“Seems like an appearances kind of crowd don't you think?”

“Yeah,” Sam said nodding.

“If they killed the nut-job should we uh, thank them or what?”

“They're working black magic too Dean, they need to be stopped.” Sam said, tone simple and bland as if he had suggested they stop for gas, not that they kill a human being.

Dean shot his brother a surprised look. “'Stopped' like stopped?” he asked. He didn’t necessarily disagree with Sam, but the no-nonsense response was not what he was expecting. Dean wasn’t sure if it was his brother’s new-found seemingly black and white view or if this was another Sammy mood swing. He looked over to find his little brother giving him a look that said the answer was obvious. “They're human Sam.”

“They're murderers,” Sam said, still looking at his brother as if he could not believe Dean hadn’t already reached the same conclusion. Dean looked over at his brother, doubt flickering through his green eyes followed quickly by resolution. “Burn witch, burn,” Dean said.

He returned his gaze to the road in front of him as the Impala started to sputter and the lights flickered. “What the hell?”

The car slowly rolled to a stop, and there standing in the middle of the foggy rural road was Ruby. Sam blinked twice, and his mouth went slack. He hadn’t seen the demon, hadn’t even spoken to Ruby in weeks. He had returned to all his older sources looking for a way to save Dean, becoming more desperate and despondent with every dead-end. And as he had become increasingly emotional, Dean had withdrawn; the emotional distance only made Sam want to undo Dean’s deal that much more. He had been slowly reaching the same conclusion Ruby had given him months ago: hers was the only way to save his brother. He wanted to leap out of the car and grab onto her and beg her to begin their practice again. He didn’t even care anymore what he had to do. He could not lose Dean.

Sam stepped out of the car and started moving toward Ruby, carefully keeping his pace slow enough so as not to appear eager; Dean followed him around the front of the Impala.

“Ruby.” Sam said, tone uncertain as he eyed the demon.

“Sam, listen to me,” she said, “there's no time.”

“For what? What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

“You have to get out of town.”

“So this is Ruby huh?” Dean asked, raising the colt, he aimed it at Ruby and cocked it. “Never had the pleasure.”

“Dean!” Sam shot out raising his arms in exasperation and disbelief. 

Dean ignored his brother, “I was hoping you'd show up again.”

Ruby crossed her arms and leveled her gaze at Dean, “Point that thing somewhere else.”

Dean spat out a biting fake laugh, “Hahahaha, right.”

Ruby ignored the older Winchester, turning back to Sam, “Sam please, go, get in the car and don't look back.”

“Why?” he asked, “I don't understand.” Sam couldn’t help the tears that started to well in his eyes as his voice slipped a bit. He was a mess with all the ups and downs of the last months and worn thin from the constant worry of how he would save the life of the one person who mattered most to him. Now standing in the road watching the center of his universe aim the colt at the one being who might actually be able to help him save Dean, it was overwhelming.

Dean seemed completely unaware of Sam’s internal struggle. “Hey hot stuff we can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks.”

“I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores. I'm talking about who they serve.” Ruby could play smart-ass at least as effectively as Dean.

Dean and Sam exchanged a confused look, then Sam’s brow smoothed as he realized what she was implying, “Demons, they get their power from demons.”

“Yeah, and there's one here, now,” she confirmed.

“Oh, what, you mean besides you?” Dean quipped.

Ruby again ignored him, “Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and it’s way more than you can handle.”

Dean was quickly being pushed past his limit with this one, “Oh come on, what is this huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!”

“Put a leash on your brother Sam, if you wanna keep him,” Ruby said with a snide sneer spreading across her lips.

“Dean, look, just chill out,” Sam could not afford to let things get out of hand between his brother and the demon.

“No, no! She's messing with your head, God knows why, that's who they are!” Dean’s voice was getting louder and more pissed with every word. He was beginning to believe that this was not the first time Sam had seen her since the last meeting Dean was aware of, since Dean had warned him that mixing with demons never ends well. And he couldn’t help but notice the change in Sam’s mood with the appearance of the evil blonde. The matter-of-fact tone he’d had when declaring that the witches had to be stopped had been replaced with the voice-cracking that only came when Sam was fighting tears.

“I'm telling you the truth,” Ruby said.

“And I'm telling you to shut up bitch.” Dean yelled.

“I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!” Ruby came back at him with just as much anger.

“Oh, I don't know maybe because he's my brother you black eyed skank!” Dean had had it. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but it was clear there was something more between Ruby and Sam than Dean knew. He was equal parts pissed off and terrified of what that meant for his baby brother.

“Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much,” Ruby sneered, digging in to hurt Dean where he was most vulnerable, “that's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?”

That. Was. It. No one could question Dean’s loyalty to Sammy. His brother was his life, his world, the other half of his freakin’ soul and Dean had given everything for him. The guilt at the fact that making his deal meant he would be leaving Sam alone was the highly sensitive chink in Dean’s armor. “Shut up.”

Ruby went in for the kill, “At least let me try and save him, since you won't be here to do it anymore.”

“I said shut up!” Dean shouted as he began to aim the colt at the demon-bitch, ready to fire.

“Dean no!” yelled Sam as he flew to Dean’s side and grabbed his arm pushing it over their heads as Dean fired the gun. Dean tried to wrench his arm from his little brother’s powerful hands and as they struggled they looked back to find the demon had disappeared.

The brothers drove back to the motel in silence. Dean was seething inside; Sam had stopped him from killing a demon, and Dean was guessing that Sam had been in contact with Ruby in secret. He just couldn’t figure out why Sam would choose trusting a demon over trusting his own brother. 

Sam’s mind was racing as the Impala sped toward their motel. Ruby was here; he could talk to her, get her to agree to finish their sessions, teach him how to save Dean. But he’d seen the way Dean had looked between himself and the demon and he knew Dean suspected something.

Dean pulled the car into the lot and got out, slamming the door behind him. Sam followed him into the motel room.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean ground out.

“What?! What the hell was I thinking?”

“She's a demon Sam, period alright. They want us dead, we want them dead.” Dean needed to reach his brother before he got in too deep in whatever it was he was doing with Ruby.

“Oh, that's funny; I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? You didn't want her dead.” Sam couldn’t help the note of jealousy in his tone. He knew how Dean felt about him, but he’d seen the way his brother had eyed her.

Dean heard the insecurity behind Sam’s statement, but he was not at a point to deal with that right now. Getting Sam to see reason about Ruby was more important. “Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook.”

“No one's stringing me along. Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she is useful.” 

“No, we kill her before she kills us.” Dean shouted.

“Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?” Sam said, using the smart-ass tone that his older brother was usually so fond of employing.

“Whatever works,” Dean bit back throwing up his hands.

“Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives,” Sam tried to reason. Dean spun on his heel and stalked away from his brother, leaning over the sink to turn the water on. Sam went on, trying to convince his brother, “Look, we have to start looking at the big picture Dean, start thinking in strategies and- and moves ahead.” Dean leaned into the basin and began splashing water on his face. He was suddenly very weary of this discussion and something didn’t feel right in his stomach.

“It's not so simple, we're not- we're not just hunting anymore. We're at war,” Sam finished. Dean turned off the water and turned to face his little brother.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

Sam rolled his eyes, “Ugh, why are you always asking me that?” he asked sitting on the bed. Dean walked across the floor toward his brother and knelt between Sam’s long legs. His tone softened as he looked into Sam’s hazel eyes, “Because you're taking advice from a demon for starters,” Dean said, “and by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people, it used to eat you up inside.” He searched Sam’s face, pleading with his green eyes.

Sam breathed out and his back slumped. He closed his eyes for a second before opening them to look into his brother’s concerned face, “Yeah, and what has that gotten me?” he asked.

Dean laughed gently, “Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do okay? We're supposed to drive in the friggin' car and friggin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap.” 

Sam’s brow creased in a tiny frown as he asked, “Wait, so- so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?”

Dean sighed heavily, “No, I'm not mad, I'm- I'm- I'm worried, Sam. I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself.”

Sam looked down at the floor and took in a slow breath that Dean thought almost sounded shaky, “Yeah, you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

This time the heavy sigh fell from Sam’s lips, “Look, Dean, you're leaving right?” He paused, swallowing hard, “And I gotta stay here in this craphole of a world, alone.” He looked up from the floor and met Dean’s gaze, “So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change.”

Dean felt the pain in his stomach gnawing at him more intensely and he crossed an arm over his abdomen as he asked, “Change into what?”

Sam placed a hand along Dean’s jaw, tears shining in hazel eyes as he replied, “Into you. I gotta be more like you.”

Dean could only hold his brother’s gaze for a moment before his own face twisted in a grimace and he clutched his stomach crying out in pain. 

“Dean?” Sam asked, “What's going on with you?”

Dean fell back on his heels his body hunched with the agony. “I don't know.” He fell forward on the carpet at Sam’s feet, “Oh- Sam something's wrong- bunch of knives inside of me-”

“Dean!?” Sam cried. He came off the bed and knelt over his brother.

“Son of a bitch-” Dean could barely get the words out. Sam was becoming increasingly afraid. He put his hand on the small of Dean’s back, “Dean, hey.”

“The coven man,” Dean said between gritted teeth, “it's gotta be the coven.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam said launching to his feet and tearing through the room. He went through the cabinets under the sink, the small closets, all the drawers, throwing things out of his way and searching frantically for a hex bag. Dean remained balled up on the floor, now coughing and spewing blood. Sam was freaking out; he ripped the covers from the bed and drew his knife across the mattress, but still found nothing. Dean was choking on the blood now and Sam had no idea where else to look. He sat down with his back against the bed and pulled his brother into the V of his legs and up against his chest. 

“It’s ok, Dean, gonna be ok.” Sam knew it was an empty promise, knew he was about to lose his brother, get cheated out of their last few months together, but he couldn’t find the damn hex bag. _The colt._ He could go force those witches to stop this.

The door to the motel room crashed open. Ruby stormed in and grabbed Dean’s chin, forcing his head back and mouth open. She pulled out a leather flask and squirted a foul black liquid down Dean’s throat. Dean sputtered and thrashed, but the blood stopped, and the pain subsided.

Dean blinked up at the demon, not sure what to think anymore. 

“You saved my life,” he said uncertainly.

“Don’t mention it,” Ruby replied flatly.

“What was that stuff? God, it was ass. It tasted like ass” Dean made a face and Sam just shook his head.

“It’s called witchcraft shortbus.” Ruby said. “Let’s go.” Sam frowned questioningly up at her. “The witches. Let’s go.”

* * * * *

Despite his misgivings, Dean worked with Ruby and along with his brother they brought down the coven and killed the demon responsible for it. They’d returned to the motel and Sam had noticed how quiet Dean had been since the battle. He didn’t push his brother; he knew Dean’s moods well enough to tell this was one that would have to be waited out. Sam went to the bathroom to shower and Dean walked to the vending machine.

On Dean’s way back to the room the lights around the outside of the motel began to flicker, he looked around and Ruby appeared in the parking lot. “So the devil may care after all, is that what I'm supposed to believe?” he asked.

“I don't believe in the devil.” She replied dryly arms crossed. 

Dean took a step towards her, “Wacky night. So let me get this straight, you were human once, you died, you went to hell, you became a...” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” she said turning to leave.

“How long ago?” Dean called after her.

Ruby stopped, but answered without turning around, “Back when the plague was big.”

“So all of 'em, every damn demon, they were all human once.”

She turned to face Dean, “Every one I've ever met.”

Dean shook his head, “Well, they sure don't act like it.”

“Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to hell Dean. That's what hell is, forgetting what you are.”

Dean’s eyes flickered through several emotions, but he bit them back, “Philosophy lesson from the demon, I'll pass thanks.”

“It’s not philosophy, it's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit, agonies you can't even imagine.” Her tone was simple, just a statement of facts. It chilled Dean.

“No, I saw Hellraiser, I get the gist,” he quipped.

Ruby smirked, “Actually they got that pretty close, except for all the custom leather.” She paused as she watched Dean process his thoughts. “The answer is yes by the way,” she added.

“I'm sorry?” Dean asked, not really sure what she was talking about.

“Yes,” she said, “the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later hell will burn away your humanity. Every hell bound soul, every one turns into something else. Turns you into us, so yeah, yeah you can count on it.” 

“There’s no way of saving me from the pit is there?”

“No,” Ruby answered, plain, simple, emotionless. 

Dean couldn’t face that reality yet. Couldn’t even imagine himself becoming the evil son of a bitch that Sam would have to hunt down. Instead he asked the question that had been on his mind since the first time Sam told him about the blonde demon who wanted to help save him. “Ruby, why do you want us to win?”

Ruby turned back around to face Dean. “Isn't it obvious? I'm not like them, I- I don't know why, I wish I was, but I'm not. I remember what it’s like.”

“What what's like?”

“Being human.” Those two words hit Dean hard. He was going to cease being human. He bent his head as he weighed what that really would mean and when he looked back up the demon had disappeared. He turned back toward the door of his and Sam’s room and slowly made his way back to his brother.

He entered to find Sam coming out of the shower, towel wrapped around his hips, water still running down his tanned skin. Sam smiled at him and it was the first relaxed and open smile he’d seen from his little brother in weeks. He crossed the room and wrapped a hand around the back of Sam’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

Sam was surprised by Dean’s kiss, but he sensed the need in his brother, the need to be close, the need to be distracted. They neither rushed nor wasted time as they both worked to free Dean from his clothes and move to the bed. Sam took the silent instruction of Dean’s nudge and gentle pushes and removed his towel and knelt on the bed. Dean grabbed the bottle of lube from his duffel and coated his fingers. He placed his clean hand on Sam’s back and gently directed Sam to bend until he was on all fours and used his fingers to work Sam open gently but quickly. 

Dean got on his knees behind Sam, lined himself up and pushed into his brother slowly. Sam moaned with the pleasant burn and stretch of his brother’s cock, almost immediately ready for Dean to start moving. He needed this as much as Dean did, and he wanted the physical memory of Dean being in him to stay long after the sex was finished. Dean moaned at the feeling of Sam rolling his hips and dropped his head to Sam’s back, resting between the strong muscles. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of Sam’s bodywash and sweat, then licked a stripe up his brother’s spine. Dean wrapped his rough hands around Sam’s hips, digging in hard, using his grip as leverage for his thrusts that turned hard and deep and fast.

Sam’s head fell forward as Dean drove into him, and he pushed his ass back into Dean’s hips. He angled his hips at the same time that Dean adjusted and Dean slammed into Sam’s prostate. Sam’s head snapped up and he screamed his brother’s name. Dean was relentless, driving into the spot over and over again. He cursed and moaned Sam’s name, and Sam knew his brother was close, was ready. Sam wrapped his hand around his own aching hard cock and stroked as Dean continued to hammer his sweet spot.

Dean came first, growling out his brother’s name and shooting hot and slick deep into Sam. The feeling of Dean’s come filling him combined with the shockwaves of the final thrusts into his prostate and one last stroke of his hand brought him over the edge fast and hard. They collapsed on their sides, Sam making sure to direct them away from the wet spot. 

Sam reached onto the floor for his towel and wiped them both clean before settling back down and pulling Dean into his chest.

“Sam,” Dean said, his voice sounding distant.

Sam placed a kiss to the back of his brother’s head, “Yeah?”

Dean sighed quietly and was silent for another moment. He cleared his throat and paused again before answering, “I've been doing some thinking. And...well, the thing is... I don't wanna die.”

Sam closed his eyes against the sudden clawing pain in his chest. He pulled Dean in tighter to his chest.

“I don't wanna go to hell,” Dean finished his voice coming out smaller than Sam could ever remember his big brother sounding.

Sam swallowed tightly and nodded against the top of his brother’s head. “Alright,” he whispered, “Yeah.” He forced strength and confidence into his voice as he continued, “We'll find a way to save you.”

Dean turned in Sam’s arms and looked into his brother’s hazel eyes. A small smile appeared on his lips and he leaned forward and pulled a kiss from Sam’s willing mouth. “Okay, good.” Sam smiled and stroked a big hand over Dean’s stubbled cheek before turning his brother back around and pulling him in tight against him again.

Sam held Dean until he felt his brother drift into sleep. He carefully extracted himself from the tangle of Dean’s limbs and silently stood and dressed. He pulled his cell phone out and flicked through the messages. He double checked the address before slipping out the door.

He pulled up outside the run down structure and made his way inside, being sure to check all around him for any signs of anything being off. He walked down a long dark hallway and at the third door to his right, a figure appeared out of the shadows.

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

Sam turned his head to make eye contact. “Yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Two steps brought the figure into the light and she grinned wryly at Sam, “I’m not so sure.”

“Ruby, I’m really ready this time. I cannot lose him. I can’t let him go to hell for me. Please. I need your help.”   
She just stood watching him, face expressionless.

“Please, Ruby.” Sam knew he was coming close to begging, but that didn’t matter. Begging was the least of what he’d do to keep his brother here safe with him.

“Alright. Let’s get going then.”

Sam took a deep breath and steeled himself against the part of his brain that was trying to scream that this was wrong. He embraced the dark energy that crawled from the depths of his mind. He took the power in and began the work he needed to get back into shape to save his brother from hell itself.

Dean’s sleep had turned fitful. A nightmare had him twisting in the sheets as his mind struggled with the nocturnal battle. His dream was filled with a sense of foreboding, of danger. He entered a room and found himself face to face with his own image. 

“We need to talk,” Dream Dean said, “I mean, you're going to hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it.” He began walking in a circle and Dean made the same moves so that they were circling around each other. “Talk about low self-esteem,” Dream Dean went on, chuckling, “Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it?”

Dean muttered to himself, “Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up.” He wasn’t sure exactly where this was heading, but being faced with himself in a nightmare could not be good.

“I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam,” Dream Dean continued. “You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.”

Dean smiled weakly, “That-That's not true.”

“No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?”

Dean just scoffed at his dream counterpart, he couldn’t disagree with any of those thoughts that he’d already had himself, but he wasn’t going to agree either.

Dream Dean wasn’t finished, “No. No, all there is is, ‘Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!’ You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell.”

Dean kept smiling, “Just shut up.”

“I mean, think about it…” Dream Dean began walking towards Dean and Dean’s smile faltered. “...all he ever did was train you, boss you around.”

The two Dean’s came face to face as Dream Dean continued his tirade, “But Sam.... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved.”   
“I mean it. I'm getting angry,” Dean warned.

“Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument,” Dream Dean’s voice grew angrier as he finished, “Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed, voice full of anger. He surged forward, pushing Dream Dean hard so that he hit off the wall and landed on the desk. “My father was an obsessed bastard!” When Dream Dean tried to get up, Dean kicked him back down unto the desk. He picked up a shotgun and held it like a bat and hit Dream Dean with it, then used it to pin him back against the wall. “All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam. That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He-” another swing of the weapon into Dream Dean, “he's the one who let Mom die.” Another blow, “Who wasn't there for Sam. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me.” Dean’s anger had built to a crescendo and he was shouting in full force now. All his frustration about anything he’d felt in his life seemed to come to a boiling point.

“And I don't deserve to go to hell!” He bellowed, shooting Dream Dean in the chest twice before lowering the weapon. Dream Dean was slumped, blood splattered everywhere and his eyes were closed. Dean walked closer. He moved slowly looking over the corpse, seeing no signs of life, his body relaxed as he breathed out.

Suddenly, Dream Dean’s eyes flew open. They were black, demon black, and Dream Dean yelled hard and angry into Dean’s face, “You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this, this is what you're gonna become.”

Dean shot up straight in bed. He was panting and his heart was thumping full force into his ribs. The adrenaline was coursing through his veins, but no matter how he tried to tell himself it was just a dream his brain would not calm itself. He looked behind him for Sam, but his brother was gone. He started to panic, when he heard the toilet flush.

Sam came into the room, and just the sight of his warm hazel eyes and floppy hair calmed Dean. Sam tilted his head, “Dean?” Dean just looked at him and when no words came, Sam rushed back to the bed. His brother was breathing hard and fast, he was covered in sweat and as he got closer he could see his heart thumping against his chest.

“Dean, are you ok?” Sam asked running the tips of his fingers along his brother’s forehead.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, Sammy. Just a dream.”

Dean’s words were meant to sound confident, reassuring. But his face remained pale and his breathing hadn’t calmed one bit. Sam settled on the bed, back against the headboard, and held his arms open.

Dean hesitated, torn between taking the comfort of his brother’s strong arms and not wanting to appear weak. The events of the day and his dream had robbed him of the strength to fight for appearances’ sake, and he sunk back against Sam’s chest, letting his little brother wrap long arms around him.

And as Sam held Dean until his breathing slowed and he relaxed back into sleep, the last doubt he had about working with a demon slipped away.

[Chapter 8](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8558.html)


	8. Chapter 8

**Warnings** : Wincest, mentions of torture, talk of blood drinking, repeated death of main character, barebacking, rimming  
AN #1: I have borrowed dialogue from 3.11 “Mystery Spot.” Of course I can never resist twisting Show’s words for my own amusement.  


** Worth It – Chapter 8 **

“No Ruby. Just. No.” Sam’s voice was both angry and weary. It was the same argument they’d had a hundred times by now. The same argument they would keep having. 

“Just do it already, Sam. You want to save Dean? Really want to save your brother from the pit? This is the way. This is the only way you will ever be strong enough to fight the demon that owns Dean’s soul.” Ruby had once again sliced through her arm and was holding it in front of Sam’s face.

A part of him now understood she was most likely right. A part of him didn’t object, would actually, literally, do anything to save Dean. That part didn’t even care what it would do to him to drink the demon’s blood. The part that objected was the part that knew Dean would be disgusted by Sam turning into a bloodsucking monster. He knew, just knew without doubt that Dean would never be able to love him once he knew. And though Sam was terrified by the thought of losing Dean, he was just as terrified of losing Dean’s love now that he finally had it.

Sam grasped Ruby’s wrist and stared at the crimson stream rippling down the pale skin. Ruby smiled, “That’s it Sam, just a taste.” His head bent toward her arm, his tongue darted out across his lips, and for a moment Ruby thought she’d won. Sam’s lip curled and he threw her arm down and left without a word.   
He just could not do it. 

* * * * *

Dean woke suddenly, sweat on his forehead, his chest heaving. The nightmares had been increasing, in both frequency and intensity. It was always a variation on the same disturbing vision. His own face, with black eyes staring back at him. Sometimes he would be tied, suspended, surrounded by heat and stench, the air vibrating with screams that Dean would only later realize were his own. Sometimes he was the one holding a blade, sneering down at the black eyes. The familiar but distorted face twisted in a sick grimace of a laugh, choking out the words he couldn’t stand to hear yet again. 

Sam was always there when Dean awakened them both with the screaming or thrashing. Always with patience, silently offering the strength and support that Dean resented needing. During the day Dean was still the strong, dangerous hunter. But at night he needed his little brother and the whole thing ate at Dean in a way he would never talk about. But Sam understood everything; that Dean needed Sam to hold him, but hated that he needed it. That Dean still needed to be strong in the light of day to live with how weak he perceived himself to be in the dark as he shot from the depths of another nightmare.

But now, as Dean sat panting and shaking, he was alone. No strong arms wrapped around him, no warm hazel eyes watching him, no little brother murmuring into his ear that he was awake now, safe, just a dream.

Dean forced his lungs to pull in steady deep breaths and slowly stood on quaking legs to make his way to the bathroom. He leaned over the sink, pointedly avoiding the mirror, and splashed water on his face. Then filled one of the plastic-wrapped cups and sipped at it. Eventually he began to calm and when his head cleared from the sulfur tinted fog of his dream, it hit him again. Sam was gone. Glancing at the clock he saw it was 3:42am. Too late for research, too early for breakfast. Where the hell was he? 

* * * * *

When they pulled into the motel in Broward County it was too late to get started with the case, so Dean got them a room and they trudged in half asleep. They hadn’t spoken much since the night before, when Sam came back to find Dean sitting up in bed, flicking through infomercials. Dean never asked Sam where he’d been and he hadn’t even looked up when Sam stuttered out some half-ass cover story. They both knew it was a lie, and neither really wanted to actually discuss it.

Sam wasn’t really surprised to open the door and find two beds. Sometimes Dean just didn’t feel like dealing with the looks that came from asking for a single king. He was pretty surprised when Dean came out of the shower and pulled back the covers on the bed Sam was not in. They hadn’t slept in separate beds in months, and with his nightmares Dean had been less likely than ever to be more than an arm’s length away from his brother at night. Sam didn’t say anything, just rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. 

* * * * *

Sam’s eyes snapped open and he sat up as “Heat of the Moment” blared from the crappy clock radio by the bed.

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean called from the other bed, looking away from Sam and tying his boot

“Dude. Asia?”

“Come on, you love this song and you know it.”

“Yeah, and if I ever hear it again I'm gonna kill myself.”

Dean reached over and turned the volume up, “What? Sorry, couldn't hear you.” Dean bobbed his head to the music lips mouthing the words. It was somewhere between just classic Dean and Dean being purposely annoying and Sam just shook his head and laughed at his brother as Dean danced his way to the bathroom.

Sam got out of bed, dressed and followed Dean into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He picked up the toothpaste and made a face at the crust of dried paste Dean had left around most of the outside of the tube. Dean ignored the face in favor of spending extra time gargling. Sam’s lip curled and Dean just wagged his eyebrows, grin hinting at his lips. 

Sam knew this game. Dean was definitely trying to irritate him. It was working. He stood in the doorway of the room waiting to leave as Dean rifled through his duffle. “Whenever you're ready, Dean,” Sam said, trying to maintain his calm.

“This yours?” Dean said holding up a black lace bra. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he bit back the anger. He had no idea where Dean had come up with that bra, but was absolutely certain now that Dean was pissed and trying everything to push all of Sam’s buttons. Sam shook his head and walked away. 

They discussed the case over breakfast. Both of them focusing on business and ignoring the tension. The two were able to agree that checking out the Broward County Mystery Spot after hours was the best start. 

* * * * *

“Find anything?” Dean asked, his flashlight beam bouncing off the walls around Sam. 

Sam held the EMF meter out with no result, “No.”

“You have any idea what you're looking for?” Dean was still feeling the unignorable urge to irk his brother. He knew Sam was hiding something and since he couldn’t get Sam to talk, he’d settle for getting Sam as pissed as he was.

“Uh, yeah.” Sam’s voice lacked any real confidence and Dean just raised his eyebrows.

“No,” Sam relented.

Dean shook his head as his brother and they returned to searching the room with the sweeping beams of their flashlights.

“What the hell are you doing here?” came a shout from near the door. Sam turned to look for the source as Dean whipped around, flashlight and gun directed at the owner of the voice. Dean saw the owner of the shop aiming a gun at him and lowered his own. “Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, we can explain,” Dean said.

The man turned to point his gun at Sam, “You robbing me?”

“Look, nobody's robbing you, calm down,” Sam tried.

Dean began to slowly move to put down his gun, hoping to calm the guy down, but the owner pointed his gun back at Dean, “Don't move!”

“Just putting the gun down.” Dean said. But it was too late, the owner fired his gun and Dean fell to the floor.

Sam’s heart lurched, “Dean!” he screamed, running to his brother’s side. He cradled Dean in his arms, and it was clear that Dean was struggling to breathe. It was worse than Sam thought. “Hey,” he said to Dean, trying to keep his focus, and then he turned to the owner, “Call 911!”

The guy’s eyes were wide as he stared at Sam and Dean, “I—I didn't mean to—” he stammered out, frozen in place.

“Now!” Sam shouted. The owner ran off and he turned back to his brother. Dean’s breaths were shallower and he was looking worse by the second. Sam gripped him tighter, he was supposed to have more time, he couldn’t lose Dean now, “Hey, hey, oh, no, no, no, not like this...” Sam’s eyes were full of tears and his own chest felt incredibly tight. Dean looked up at him, then Sam felt the last of Dean’s breath leave him and his heart splintered. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. He closed his eyes against the pain.

Suddenly, “Heat of the Moment” assaulted his ears. Sam opened his eyes to find himself back in bed at the motel, the crappy clock radio blaring out the same crappy song again. He sat up and looked around the room in disbelief.

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” Dean called from the opposite bed. What the hell? This was not possible. He’d just watched Dean die.

“Dude. Asia,” Dean said, breaking Sam out of his thoughts. Sam just stared at him, still trying to figure it out. 

“Dean,” Sam said, both reverence and disbelief coloring his tone.

“Oh, come on, you love this song and you know it.” Dean stood up and danced his way into the bathroom, exactly the same as before. Sam followed and watched in astonishment as Dean gargled annoyingly loudly again. Then Dean turned to him, “What?”   
“I don’t know.”

“You alright?” Dean asked, nearly dropping his quest to irritate Sam in his ever-present concern for his little brother.

“I think I…” Sam paused, searching for the words to explain, or the actual explanation itself. It just wasn’t possible. The same day, all over again? Maybe the psychic dreams were back, he must have triggered something during his practice with Ruby, knocked some other dark piece of his brain back into action when he was poking around. He looked back up at Dean, “Man, I had a weird dream.”

And that explanation would have held up, had the morning not continued to be eerily identical to his “dream,” but with a feeling that was decidedly different from his usual psychic vision dreams. As they left the diner, Sam was trying to explain to Dean what he was going through without being able to understand it himself. It couldn’t be just a vision, that didn’t fit. He honestly wasn’t sure what was happening, but thought maybe the mystery spot was best place to start looking for answers. 

“We gotta check that place out, man. Look, just, go with me on this, okay?” Sam pleaded.

“All right, all right, we'll go tonight, after it closes, get ourselves a nice long look,” Dean agreed. Sam nodded, then realized what Dean had suggested and what that suggestion would lead to, “Wait, what? No.”

“Why not?” Dean asked.

“Uh. Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded,” Sam knew the explanation would make no sense to his brother, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell Dean he didn’t want to go after closing because there was a good chance Dean would die.

“My God, you're a freak,” Dean said frowning at his little brother who was making less and less sense every minute.

“Dean.”

“Okay. Whatever. We'll go now.” Dean stepped off the curb ahead of Sam. Sam took a step forward to follow his brother when a car came from nowhere, speeding through the crosswalk and sending his brother flying up into the air and over the hood. Dean’s body crashed to the ground and Sam sprinted to his brother, gathering him in his arms, “Dean, no, no, no.” Dean wasn’t responding, was barely moving even to breathe, “Come on, Dean.”

Sam could not wrap his brain around this. It could not be happening again. He could not be holding his brother as the life seeped from his body for a second time. He just couldn’t take that. “Hey. Dean.” But Dean didn’t answer, didn’t move, didn’t breathe. “Dean. Dean.” Sam’s heart burst into a million burning pieces. Tears burned his eyes as he let them fall shut.

The blaring of Asia woke him again. He watched Dean dance to the bathroom and gargle loudly. Again. 

They walked to the diner, and as soon as the waitress approached the table Sam spat out, “He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee, black, nothing for me, thanks.”

“Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that,” Dean said with a wink and a smirk.

“Quit screwing around, Dean,” Sam needed to figure this out, because psychic dream or time loop, Dean was going to die in his arms in a matter of hours unless he found a way to stop it.

Dean’s face softened to concern at the tone of his brother’s voice, “Okay, okay, I'm listening. So, so you think that you're in some kind of a what again?”

“Time loop.”

“Like Groundhog Day?” Dean asked.

“Yes, exactly. Like Groundhog Day.”

Dean nodded, “Uh-huh.”

“So you don't believe me.”

Dean snorted out an aborted chuckle, “It's just a little crazy, I mean even for us crazy, you know, like, uh—”

“Dingo ate my baby crazy?” Sam asked, one eyebrow raised.

Dean frowned at Sam, “How'd you know I was going to say that?”

“Because you said it before, Dean,” Sam said, voice clipped and stressed, “that's my whole point.”

The waitress came to the table, “Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the—whoops! Crap,” she said as the hot sauce began to tumble from her tray. Sam caught it and handed it back to her, eyes never leaving Dean. 

“Thanks,” she said, putting down the hot sauce and leaving.

“Nice reflexes,” Dean said.

“No. I knew it was going to happen.”

Dean took a breath and gathered his patience, “Okay, look, I'm sure there's some sort of an explanation—”

“You're just going to have to go with me on this, Dean, you just have to, you owe me that much,” Sam’s voice grew increasingly strained and intense.

“Calm down.”

“Don't tell me to calm down. I can't calm down. I can't. Because—” Sam stopped and looked away.

“Because what?” Dean asked, concern filling his voice.

Tears welled in Sam’s hazel eyes, “Because you die today, Dean.”

“I'm not gonna die,” Dean said, “Not today.”

“Twice now I've watched you die, and I can't.” Sam drew in a shaky breath, “I won't do it again, okay? You're just going to have to believe me. Please.” A tear slid down Sam’s cheek. Dean leaned across the table to take Sam’s hand in his. He wasn’t prone to PDA, but no one here knew them as brothers, and if Sam needed his comfort he’d just have to deal with the looks a gay couple would be bound to get in a small southern town.

“All right. I still think you're nuts, but okay, whatever this is, we'll figure it out.” He squeezed Sam’s hand in his. Sam swiped the back of his free hand across his eyes and nodded, wanting more than anything to believe his brother.

* * * * *

But they didn’t figure it out. 100 Tuesdays passed, and Sam watched Dean die 100 different ways. And it hurt, ached, burned a hole through him every single one of those hundred times.

Around Tuesday number 30 Sam tried to call Ruby, but got her voicemail. He tried again, and again, and every Tuesday until about 64, when he realized it was still the same day for her and she was just going to stay unreachable until he got out of this god-awful day.

When he finally put the pieces together and stood face to face with the Trickster, stake to his throat, Sam thought the pain was finally over. 

“So this is fun for you?” Sam asked, “Killing Dean over and over again?”

The Trickster sneered, “One, yes. It is fun. And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?”

“You son of a bitch,” Sam snarled out, pressing the stake into the skin of Loki’s neck.

“How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother. No matter what.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked, “I kill you, this all ends now.” He moved to follow through on his threat, but the Trickster interrupted him.

“Oh-oh, hey, whoa! Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear.”

“You're lying,” Sam said, “Easier to just kill you.”

“Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that,” he said and snapped his fingers.

Sam found himself lying in bed in the hotel room, waking up to “Back In Time.” He glanced over to the clock to see that it said Wednesday. Tuesday was over. Finally, finally over. Sam was elated. He stood from the bed and walked right up to Dean in the bathroom, grabbed his face in his hands and kissed him.

“How many Tuesdays did you have?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t know. I lost count,” Sam said, throwing a shirt on. He needed to get as much space between himself and Broward County as he could. “Pack your stuff, let’s get the hell out of town. Now.”

“No breakfast?” Dean asked.

“No breakfast.”

Sam felt completely relieved, no more watching Dean die. He knew now he could never survive that, and once they put this godforsaken town in the rearview mirror, his first call was going to be to Ruby. Risking Dean’s anger, judgment or disappointment was no longer the scariest thing Sam could imagine. He zipped his duffel and threw it over his shoulder and was about to head out the door when the sound of a gunshot rang in his ears.

No! This could not be happening. Not again. Not now. He was supposed to be done with the torture of his soul mate being ripped from his life in front of him. 

“Dean!” he shouted as he sprinted from the room toward where the Impala was parked. He found his brother on the ground, a bullet hole spurting blood from his heart. Oh God, no. No! This. Was. Not. Happening. He fell to his knees next to his brother and pulled him into his arms. 

“No, no, no no no, hey, hey, come on, not today, not today, this isn't supposed to happen today, come on—” And having seen it 100 times or 1000 times, it didn’t matter. This, the sight of Dean bleeding, his fair skin going ashen grey and the life draining from his green eyes, it crushed Sam’s soul. Tore his heart into jagged pieces that ripped through him like shrapnel. He couldn’t breathe through the tightness in his chest. His eyes burned with tears he could never hope to stop. His limbs felt heavy. His brain struggled to make sense of what was before it, but his mind would not move.

Desperate for anything to make this be not happening, even one of the Trickster’s cruel pranks, Sam closed his eyes and waited for Asia or Huey Lewis to wake him. When only silence rang in his ears, he opened his eyes to see Dean, lifeless in his arms. “I'm supposed to wake up.” 

The tears broke free, Sam fell back on his ass on the pavement, pulling Dean’s body to his chest. He threw his head back and screamed, then let it fall forward into the spikey hair on the crown of Dean’s head and sobbed. He clutched tight to Dean and drew in deep breaths of Dean’s scent, and the tears spilled faster, his chest heaved harder. He was sure his body would shake apart with this anguish. And he didn’t care. If he had lost Dean, really lost him this time, nothing was worth it anymore.

And that is where Ruby found him. Sam Winchester, six feet five inches of powerful hunter, completely broken, empty. Near catatonic. 

* * * * *

Sam could never be sure what exactly happened those first couple of months. He truly had no memory. He slowly climbed from his fog when Ruby announced she’d found a lead on the Trickster. 

Before that he had a few vague memories of her trying to convince him to train again. That the best way to get revenge for Dean’s death was to tap into his powers and really make the Trickster feel it. But Sam hadn’t had the strength. His powers all came from his mind…and his mind was shut down. Opening his thoughts up meant processing the fact that Dean was actually, really gone. That just couldn’t be true. So, no, he’d said. No training. No Demon blood. No thinking. 

But it was a lead on the Trickster that woke him up. Suddenly he could feel the blind rush of rage searing through him. He wanted the Trickster. Wanted him impaled and bleeding. And he hoped that Loki’s death would bring his brother back. Ruby raised a doubting eyebrow to that, but at least Sam was moving again.

They found Loki and when Sam stood in front of him, the anger drained away and all he wanted was his brother. “Bring him back,” Sam said, eyes tired and sad.

“Who, Dean? Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak.”

Sam closed his eyes against the pain from that image. “Just take us back to that Tuesday—er, Wednesday—when it all started. Please. We won't come after you, I swear.”

“You swear,” Loki said, disbelievingly.

“Yes,” Sam answered, earnestly.

“I don't know. Even if I could—”

“You can.”

“True. But that don't mean I should. Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours.”

“Lesson? What lesson?” Sam asked, both confused and irritated.

“This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.”

That was just not going to happen. Sam would _never_ let Dean go. “He's my brother.”

“Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him.”

His voice threatened to break as he simply pleaded with Loki, “Please. Just—please.”

“I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall.” Sam aimed tear-filled puppy eyes at the Trickster, who just rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. “Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I'm over it.”

“Meaning what?” Sam asked.

“Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out,” Loki said, finishing with a snap of his fingers.

“Back In Time” played from the crap clock radio. Sam’s eyes popped open and he sat straight up in bed. He was back in the room in Broward County. He turned his head toward the sound of running water, and felt a lump in his throat. There stood Dean at the sink. Dean, who he’d held in his arms as he died, Dean that he’d been unable to hold or touch or kiss for months. He stared as his brother finished brushing his teeth and turned to say, “What, you gonna sleep all day?”

Sam still just stared, mouth slightly open. It was all he wanted for every second of every minute for the last six months and now, his beautiful, beautiful brother was right there.

“I know, no Asia. This station sucks,” Dean said, oblivious to anything going on in Sam’s mind. Sam looked at the dial on the clock displaying “WED.”

“It's Wednesday,” he said, voice quiet and awed.

“Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off.” Sam threw back the covers from his bed, stood and moved to his brother. He wrapped a large hand around Dean’s neck and the other long arm around his waist and drew him into a deep kiss. His mouth worked over the full lips of his brother with equal parts love and desperation. He needed to feel Dean, needed to know he was real and here and alive.

Dean, who hadn’t been through the last six months with him, put a hand in the center of Sam’s chest and pushed him back slightly. 

Dean searched Sam’s eyes and instantly recognized the look in them. Sam needed to feel Dean, to reaffirm the life flowing through his brother’s veins. Dean hadn’t been through every Tuesday the way Sam had, and his anger and frustration about Sam hiding things from him was still fresh. But that look, in those beautiful hazel eyes, Dean had no defense for that. He leaned forward again and met his brother’s lips in a deep tenderhot kiss.

Sam turned them and pushed Dean back toward the bed. He stopped long enough to pull the clothes from Dean’s body and rip his own off. He pressed their bodies together; every inch of bare skin lined up as he sucked Dean’s full lip into his mouth, nipped at it, plunging his tongue into Dean’s mouth.

Dean moaned at the feeling of Sam’s hot skin against his and his brother’s tongue pushing into his mouth. His hands skimmed down Sam’s muscled back, landing on the firm globes of his ass. Sam moaned as Dean squeezed his ass and pushed their leaking cocks together. They rutted against each other frantically before Sam broke the kiss, breathing hard. He wanted more than this and he gently pushed Dean down onto the bed. 

Dean lay on his back, and Sam balanced over him on hands and knees. He kissed Dean again, moving to the sensitive skin of his neck. He nipped and sucked over the beating pulse, nuzzled Dean’s ear, “God, Dean. So beautiful. Need you.” His tongue darted out, tracing the shell, then pulling the lobe into his mouth as he sucked on it. Dean moaned his name, running his hands up Sam’s flanks.

Sam worked his way to the base of Dean’s throat, kissing freckles in a path to the tattoo that lay over his brother’s beating heart. He kissed it, traced the lines with his tongue, and nipped the skin. He wasted no time moving to Dean’s nipples, teasing his brother with tongue and teeth.

He nosed down Dean’s stomach, dipping his tongue into his navel, and tracing the path of dark blonde hair until it reached the base of Dean’s flushed, blood heavy cock. He looked up at Dean through his bangs as he took the tip into his mouth. He moaned at the taste of his brother, the weight of his cock on his tongue. He’d been without this for months, and now he was in total bliss to have it again.

Dean keened and writhed as Sam sucked and licked his cock. He nearly lost his mind when Sam worked him deep and swallowed around the head. “Fuck, Sammy!”

Sam moaned, and pulled off, a satisfying, dirty wet pop coming with the action. Dean whimpered and Sam grinned up at him. “Turn over, Dean.”

Dean groaned as he complied. Sam balanced over his brother for a moment, appreciating the perfect landscape of Dean’s back and gorgeous ass. His brother was beautiful from every angle, but he truly had never seen anyone more stunning from this angle than Dean. 

Sam licked a stripe up Dean’s spine, then back down. When he came to Dean’s ass, he bit into one defined cheek, big hand squeezing the other. Dean reflexively bucked up into the feeling, moaning a plea. Sam placed a hand on each cheek and spread them, licking over Dean’s hole, earning a curse from his brother. 

“You like that, Dean?”

“Mm-hm, fuck Sammy, yeah.” Sam traced around the ring of muscle, teased the entrance with the tip of his tongue. Dean moaned and pressed back and was rewarded with a full press of Sam’s tongue. Sam fucked his tongue in and out, teasing the rim and swirling around trembling walls.

Dean quickly turned into a wreck above him. Moaning, keening, wiggling, writhing, begging. Everything punctuated with “Sammy” and Sam loved every second of it. When he pushed two long fingers in beside his tongue, Dean shouted a curse, and was soon pleading with Sam for more, for his cock.

Sam turned Dean back over; he needed to watch Dean’s face. He reached into the nightstand and popped open the cap on the lube, He slicked his aching cock slowly as Dean watched. Sam pulled Dean’s leg over his shoulder, lined himself up with Dean’s wet open hole and slowly, pushed in. He felt every inch of his brother’s tight hole and he watched the feeling of being stretched register in Dean’s eyes. 

Once he was fully seated, he paused and leaned down to kiss his brother. He deepened that kiss just as he began to move his hips and Dean reached up to grasp Sam’s biceps. It was intense, the physicality of it, the deep, raw emotion bubbling up. Sam knew he was going to come fast and hard, and he wanted, needed to feel Dean do the same. 

He pulled back from the kiss and pulled Dean’s other leg over his shoulder, adjusting his angle until he saw the electric shock of having his prostate hit register on Dean’s face. Then he wrapped his long fingers around his brother’s dick and pumped in time with his thrusts into Dean’s prostate.

“Oh, God. Fuck. Sammy. God…gonna…so good, baby boy. So close.”

“Do it, Dean. Please, De, please come for me.” 

And Dean did. Arched his back, threw his head back and screamed Sam’s name as he came so hard his vision went white. 

Dean’s muscles contracted around Sam and the sound and sight of his brother coming, the feeling of Dean so alive around him, sent Sam careening over the edge. He yelled Dean’s name and then collapsed on top of him.

They lay like that for a few minutes, catching their breath.

“Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?” Dean asked, breathless.

“Enough,” Sam said with a huff and a chuckle. “What, uh, what do you remember?”

“I remember you were pretty whacked out of it yesterday. I remember catching up with the Trickster. That's about it,” Dean said with a small shake of his head. Sam nodded, “Let's go.”

“No breakfast?” Dean asked.

“No breakfast.”

Dean shrugged, “All right, I'll pack the car.” He started to stand from the bed, when Sam’s hand around his wrist stopped him, “Wait, you're not going anywhere alone.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “It's the parking lot, Sam.”

“Just—just trust me.” Dean saw the look in Sam’s eyes and knew not to question it any further. They packed up the room and as they stood in the door to go, Dean turned to him and asked, “Hey, you don't look so good. Something else happen?”

Sam was quiet, weighing the options of explaining everything to his brother, or sparing him the details of how hard Sam had crashed without him. Of telling him it was a demon that pushed him to survive after his reason to exist had been torn from him. “I just had a really weird dream.”

Dean nodded, he could see the pain in Sam’s eyes, and he knew there was something more going on. But he knew watching Sam die once had been more than he could bear. He couldn’t begin to imagine what watching his older brother die 100 times had done to Sammy. “Clowns or midgets?” he asked.

Sam looked up at him, a little surprised at first. He decided to take the out being offered to him and as Dean grinned at him, Sam tried to smile back. His lips curled into the right shape, but his eyes remained clouded and teary. He looked away from Dean and picked up his bag. Dean grabbed his own duffel and they headed out to the car. 

* * * * *

They drove through 3 states before Sam would let them stop. Dean picked the first motel he found after that. He was willing to go along with whatever Sammy needed right now, but he was exhausted after umpteen uninterrupted hours of driving. 

They showered together; partly to save time, but mostly because Sam couldn’t seem to let Dean out of his sight. After, they climbed into the same bed and Dean let Sam pull him back against his broad chest, never once making a complaint about being the little spoon. He understood Sam’s need for constant touch; and really, being touched by Sam was not exactly a hardship. 

* * * * *

Once Dean was sound asleep, chest rising and falling evenly, Sam carefully slipped out from behind him. He pulled on jeans and silently went outside, pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed without hesitation and got the address he needed.

Ruby smirked as he walked up to her. “Nice to see you walking and talking again, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam,” he said, voice deep and even. He reached forward, drew his switchblade across her arm and brought the parted flesh to his lips. Without a second thought, he sucked the demon’s blood into his mouth.

[Chapter 9](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/8753.html)


	9. Chapter 9

**Warnings** : Wincest, blood drinking, ANGST  
 **AN #1** : I have borrowed dialogue from 3.12 “Jus in Bello” and 3.13 “Ghost Facers.” Of course I can never resist twisting Show’s words for my own amusement.  


**Worth It – Chapter 9**

It was everything and nothing Sam expected of it. Thick but slippery slick. Hot, but it gave him chills. It tasted disgusting; coppery metallic flavor overlaid with bitter sulfur. It was nauseating, sat in his stomach heavy like Judas’s silver. He felt a rush the instant it hit his system. He was almost instantly hooked, and in complete denial.

Electric bolts of power shot up his spine and out every nerve. His eyes were clearer, his ears sharper, and he could feel his dark powers surging. Ruby had been right. _This_ is what would save Dean. It was the first time since Dean made the damn deal that he actually believed his brother would be safe. It was also the first time in that year that he felt truly unworthy of the absolute love and devotion of Dean. His guilt curled around the bloom of his excitement, as he drew on the power of Ruby’s blood to begin the real training.

* * * * *

Dean sat bolt upright in bed. He was panting, covered in sweat, and alone. Again. It was like this more often than not anymore. Dean still hadn’t figured out what Sam was up to, only knew that he continued to lie and sneak around. The tension had grown between them and now they were either arguing or not talking at all. They hadn’t touched each other in days. Not a kiss, not a hug; not even a brush of hands as they packed or unpacked the Impala.

Dean stood from the bed and walked to the bathroom, avoiding the mirror, in what had become his new ritual to cope with the nightmares without his brother. He’d taken to hiding them from Sam now. Even though the images were increasingly vivid and horrifying, he could not bring himself to take comfort from the brother who was lying to him on a daily basis. 

He had stopped counting the times he woke to an empty room. Then Sam began disappearing at other times. He’d tell Dean he was headed to the library for research, but then come back with precious little information. Dean knew they worked some obscure cases, but Sam was better than that. He’d never in his life failed to come up with some kind of lead, and he never turned down the opportunity to show off his finds to his big brother. Sometimes Sam would say he was going for food, and then return having taken more than twice as long as it should to grab the burger and salad he returned with. And sometimes, Sam would just be not there.

Dean sighed and slammed his hands on the bathroom counter in front of him. He was pissed. He was scared. And he had no idea what to do, but he was sick to death of quietly accepting Sam’s deception.

* * * * *

Dean was more than a little off his game, and that was most likely why he didn’t see Bela’s trick coming until it was too late. Until he and Sam found themselves face down in the carpet being arrested by FBI agent Henrikson. And now, the two sat on a dirty cot in a cell, chained together and it was the closest contact they’d had in maybe weeks. Sam’s body heat, always so familiar and comforting, felt strange against Dean’s side now. 

They were both scared, worried there really was no way out of this and that they might spend Dean’s final months in prison. Sam’s thoughts immediately went to Ruby and how on earth was he going to continue training if he was in a cell, watched 24/7. Dean lamented all the final moments of living he would miss if he was stuck behind bars. But they sat in silence, neither one really sure what to say or how to start.

Henrikson walked up to the bars of the cell and wrapped a hand around one at shoulder level. He looked the Winchester brothers up and down arrogantly; he was clearly enjoying this situation entirely too much. Sam looked at Henrikson for only a second before fixing his gaze on the wall across from him. His mind was an unpredictable mix of anger and fear and hurt and he didn’t want the agent to get a read on any of it. Dean fixed his smuggest smirk and made eye contact with Henrikson. 

“You know what I’m trying to decide?” the agent asked, sarcasm and bitter joy coloring his tone.

Dean quirked the corner of his upper lip, “I don’t know. What? Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?”

Henrikson didn’t even miss a beat at Dean’s jab, “What to have for dinner tonight. Steak or lobster? What the hell, surf and turf. I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you two in chains…”

Dean let out his cocky drawl, “You kinky son of a bitch. We don’t swing that way.”

Henrikson huffed, “Now, that’s funny.” He eyed the brothers and for just a moment Sam wondered if the agent knew. He seemed to have become an expert in all things Winchester while hunting them down. Maybe he’d put the pieces together about the less-than-brotherly part of their love. 

Dean cut off Sam’s worried thoughts, “You know, I wouldn’t bust out the melted butter just yet. Couldn’t catch us at the bank, couldn’t keep us in that jail.”

“You’re right,” Henrikson agreed, “Screwed up. I underestimated you. I didn’t count on you being that smart but now I’m ready.”

“Yeah, ready to lose us again,” Dean threw back at him. He was mustering every bit of cynical sarcasm he could find given his own doubts about him and Sam getting out of this situation, but this time he couldn’t quite get himself to look at the FBI agent on the other side of the bars.

Henrikson didn’t hesitate as he laid out the truly dire nature of the boys’ current predicament, “Ready like a court order to keep you in a Supermaximum prison in Nevada ‘til trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, so small that between you and me… probably unconstitutional.” He grinned, self-satisfied and almost evil as he finished the last words. Sam’s eyes had grown wide and Dean swiped his hand down his face. They both knew this was serious, and though neither wanted to give up for the other’s sake, right now, it seemed they would spend Dean’s last months separated.

“How’s that for ready?” Henrikson asked them. Dean said nothing, eyes fixed straight ahead as he tried to keep his poker face on. “Aw, where’s that smug smile, Dean? I want to see.” Henrikson taunted, another sinister grin curling his lips.

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, “You got the wrong guys.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place. That’s all, that’s reality,” Henrikson fired at them. It was clearly a speech he’d been ready to give them for months. And obviously designed to tear down Dean’s armor. Sam knew the combination of taking shots at John and the mention of incest would be too much for Dean, but he watched helplessly as it pierced through Dean’s defenses and his brother’s composure began to crack. 

“Why don’t you shut your mouth?” Dean asked, voice dropping dangerously. If there weren’t bars between him and the other man, he’d have his hands on him already.

“Well, guess what. Life sucks. Get a helmet. ‘Cause everybody’s got a sob story. But not everybody becomes a killer.” Henrikson’s victory speech turned moral lecture was interrupted by the pulsing blades of an approaching helicopter. “And now I have two less to worry about,” he said looking at his watch with a smile, “It’s surf and turf time.” Sam and Dean listened to the sound of Henrikson’s laughter as he walked away. 

Dean dropped his head into his hands. Sam breached the distance between them to put a reassuring hand on his brother’s back. He ran his long fingers up Dean’s spine, and massaged the tense muscles in Dean’s neck. Dean put a hand on Sam’s knee and squeezed. It was less a truce and more a sharing of abject misery; but it was something.

* * * * *

After Dean was shot by the possessed FBI agent, Sam had been able to trick the good-little-Catholic-girl secretary Nancy into getting close enough to nab her rosary. And though it was little in the way of weaponry, both brothers felt a small lift from having anything to use against the demons they both knew were close and getting closer.

Dean sat next to Sam on the cot and pressed the clean towel to the gunshot wound in his shoulder.

“We’re like sitting ducks in here,” Sam said grimly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean agreed, then shouted, “Would it kill these cops to bring us a snack?!”

Sam completely ignored his brother’s smart-assed little outburst, “How many you figure are out there?”

“I don’t know,” Dean answered.

“However many they are, they could be possessing anyone. Anyone could just walk right in.” Sam felt equal parts helpless and angry. He wanted to break through the walls and start twisting demons in his hands. Unleash his growing power and take them all out; show them it would be wise to think twice about taking Sam Winchester’s brother from him. However, Sam also knew, even free of the cell he couldn’t really use his powers in front of Dean. There would be too many questions to answer, too much fall-out. His brother would surely make him stop and Sam needed the scant weeks he had left to build his power to its fullest potential if he was going to be able to stop Dean from going to hell.

Dean broke into Sam’s thoughts, “It's kind of wild, right? I mean it’s like they’re coming for us. They’ve never done that before.” Dean paused and smiled at his little brother, “It’s like we got a contract on us. Think it’s because we’re so awesome? I think it’s ‘cause we’re so awesome.” He smiled again, going for his usual mix of cockiness and levity to try to break Sam from his brooding. The smile faded from his full lips when he realized Sam was not the least bit amused or distracted by the joke.

Each brother mulled over Dean’s statement, believing they were the cause of the demons “coming right at them.” Dean thought maybe the demons were moving in early, maybe they would close on his deal sooner than promised. It wouldn’t be the first time a demon did something shady, and maybe that was the reason his nightmares continued to come more frequently and leave him more terrified. Sam was pretty sure the demons knew about his new training tactics with Ruby and they were ready to put an end to anything that gave a human that kind of power over them. Neither said anything, and those thoughts were added to the stack of secrets the boys were keeping from each other.

* * * * *

The stolen rosary turned into their salvation. Sam used it to bless the water of the toilet and when a possessed Henrikson came at them, Sam dunked the agent’s head under the now-holy toilet water and exorcised the demon. 

Now Dean and Henrikson sat together in the main office of the police station prepping salt rounds and loading their rifles. An hour ago Dean wouldn’t have bet that even possession would change Henrikson’s mind about the supernatural, but once Sam had exercised the demon that took over the agent’s body, he never outright admitted to being wrong, but he quietly acquiesced to the Winchester’s plans to protect everyone from the supernatural forces at work around them.

“Shotgun shells full of salt,” Henrikson said, shaking his head.

Dean continued loading his sawed-off, “Whatever works.”

“Fighting off monsters with condiments,” he said, removing his tie, “So turns out demons are real.” He didn’t look at Dean when he made the admission, just picked up a rifle to load full of salt rounds.

Dean looked up and quirked an eyebrow, “FYI, ghosts are real too. So are werewolves, vampires, changelings, evil clowns that eat people.”

“Ok then.”

“If it makes you feel better, Bigfoot’s a hoax,” Dean said with a smile.

“It doesn’t. So, how many demons?” Henrikson asked.

“Total? No clue. A lot.”

There was silence for a moment before Henrikson said, “You know what my job is?”

“You mean besides locking up the good guys?” Dean said with a smirk and a shrug, then walked toward where Henrikson was popping shells into a harness. “I have no idea.” 

“My job is boring,” Henrikson said, “it’s frustrating. You work three years for one break, and then maybe you can save a few people. Maybe. That’s the payoff. I’ve been busting my ass for 15 years to nail a handful of guys and all this while, there’s something in the corner so big. So yeah… sign me up for that big, frosty mug of wasting my damn life.” Henrikson’s tone was full of frustration and he shook his head as he spoke.

Dean tilted his head, “You didn't know.”

“Now I do,” he said, then paused before asking, “What’s out there? Can you guys beat it? Can you win?”

Dean looked away for a second before dropping his voice to that serious husky tone he used when he knew a civilian needed to see certainty and strength where there was none to be found, “Honestly, I think the world’s gonna end bloody. But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin’.”

“Plus you got nothing to go home to but your brother.”

Henrikson’s statement knocked Dean back a bit. He wasn’t sure if the man meant it as a slight, indicating Dean’s failure to cement any meaningful relationships in his life, or if the agent really did know that he and Sam were more than brothers. Dean lowered his eyes and shook his head as he thought about it. Maybe he did only have Sam to come home to at the end of the day. But, even with the current tensions between them, Sammy was all Dean had ever needed anyway. As long as his brother was there with him at the end of the day, he was content. So he nodded, “Yeah,” he said, “What about you? You rockin’ the white picket fence?” he asked trying to distract both Henrikson and himself from the agent’s last statement.

“Mmm-mm, empty apartment, string of angry ex-wives. I’m right where you are,” he said with a mirthless chuckle.

“Imagine that,” Dean said with a shake of his head. Dean knew he had it better than the lonely man in front of him, but he let Henrikson have the moment.

It was interrupted by a crash through a window in the next room. Ruby stood there in the center of a devil’s trap.

Henrikson pointed his rifle at her as he asked, “How do we kill her?”

Sam stepped forward and pushed Henrikson’s rifle down to the ground, “We don’t.”

“She’s a demon.”

“She’s here to help us,” Sam answered. Phil, one of the police officers and Nancy had come into the room. “Are you kidding?” Phil asked. Ruby stood in the devil’s trap breathing heavily and looking up angrily through her lashes; Dean heaved an exasperated sigh. He was so tired of this demon showing up like this. She played at coming to the rescue, but no way did he trust her.

“Are you gonna let me out?” Ruby asked. Henrikson and Dean exchanged a look as Sam bent to scratch out a patch of the devil’s trap with his knife.

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” Ruby said as she stepped from the trap, “Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here.” Ruby walked through everyone gathered around and into the main office. Dean looked at Sam with a frown and Sam just shrugged. Dean followed Ruby with Henrikson close behind, Sam reached up to the window to fix the salt line.

“How many are out there?” Dean asked Ruby.

“30 at least. That’s so far.”

“Oh, good,” Dean said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “30. 30 hit men all gunning for us. Who sent them?”

Ruby looked to Sam who now stood in the doorway, “You didn’t tell Dean?” she asked. Dean raised his eyebrows in shock, and then looked at his brother, confusion all over his face. “Oh, I’m surprised,” the demon said, eyes on Sam the entire time.

“Tell me what?” Dean asked.

Sam’s jaw set as Ruby continued to watch him while she explained to Dean, “There’s a big new up and comer. Real pied piper.”

“Who is he?” Dean asked.

Now Ruby turned to look at Dean, “Not he. Her. Her name is Lilith.”

“Lilith?” Dean asked.

Ruby continued, “And she really, really wants Sam’s intestines on a stick. ‘Cause she sees him as competition.”

Dean was furious. Either this bitch was lying to him, or this was the secret that had Sam acting all sneaky. He turned to his brother, “You knew about this?” When Sam only looked between Dean and Ruby and didn’t answer, Dean went on nearly shouting in disbelief, “Well, gee, Sam. Is there anything else I should know?!”

Sam blinked and swallowed, he didn’t so much care that Dean had found out about Lilith as he worried about Dean now knowing for sure that Sam had been in contact with Ruby on his own. Prying out the secret of what they had been doing would become Dean’s next goal, and Sam dreaded that.

“How about the two of you talk about this later? We’ll need the Colt.” She looked to Sam, who refused to meet her gaze, then to Dean, “Where’s the Colt?”

“It got stolen,” Sam gruffed out through his clenched jaw.

“I’m sorry. I must have blood in my ear,” the blonde demon said caustically, “I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your thick, clumsy, idiotic hands.” She pushed off the desk angrily and paced toward the back of the room, “Fantastic. This is just peachy…”

“Ruby…” Sam tried, but she cut him off.

“Shut up,” she said turning around and raising her hand, “Fine. Since I don’t see that there’s any other option. There’s one other way I know how to get you out of here alive.”

“What’s that,” Dean asked.

She cocked her head to the side as she answered snidely, “I know a spell. It’ll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius. _Myself_ included. So, you let the Colt out of your sight and now I have to die. So next time, be more careful. How’s that for a dying wish?” She spat the last sentence in Sam’s direction. Sam bent his head and fixed his gaze on the ground.

Dean stood from the desk he’d been perched on, “Okay, what do we need to do?” he asked.

“Aww… you can’t do anything. This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue.”

Dean nodded, “I got virtue,” he said with a shrug.

Ruby smirked, “Nice try. You’re not a virgin.”

Dean laughed, “Nobody’s a virgin.” Ruby looked at Dean then, pointedly at Nancy the secretary.

Dean raised his eyebrows, “No. No way. You’re kidding me, r–. You’re…”

“What? It’s a choice, okay?” Nancy said, cutting him off.

“So, y-you’ve never… Not even once? I mean not even – Wow.” Dean said, and he sincerely looked impressed.

Nancy shook her head at Dean and then turned to face the blonde demon with a smile, “So, this spell. What can I do?”

“You can hold still while I cut your heart out of your chest.” Ruby answered, dryly.

“What?” Nancy asked, which was quickly followed by Dean saying, “Whoa. What? Are you crazy?”

“I’m offering a solution,” Ruby answered.

“You’re offering to kill somebody.” Dean shot back.

“And what do you think’s gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?” Ruby asked.

Henrikson jumped in, “We’re gonna protect her. That’s what.”

“Excuse me.” Nancy tried meekly to interject.

“Very noble.” Ruby said ignoring the secretary.

“Excuse me.” Nancy tried again, but Ruby continued, “You’re all gonna die. Look. This is the only way.”

“Yeah, yeah. There’s no way that you’re gonna—” Dean spat back at her. He was not going to let this demon bitch sacrifice an innocent girl.

Nancy took a breath and raised her voice, “Would everybody please shut up?!” Dean and Ruby turned to the petite brunette. “All the people out there… will it save them?” Nancy asked.

“It’ll blow the demons out of their bodies. So if their bodies are okay… yeah.” Ruby answered honestly. Nancy paused to take several deep breaths and then said resolutely, “I’ll do it.” 

The room erupted, “No, no,” Dean said, and “Hell no,” came from Henrikson. 

Dean looked at Nancy, “You don’t need to do this.”

“All my friends are out there,” she said simply.

“We do not sacrifice people. We do that, we’re no better than them.” Henrikson argued.

“We don’t have a choice,” Ruby said.

“Yeah, well, your choice is not a choice,” Dean responded.

Ruby looked to Sam, “Sam, you know I’m right.” Dean raised his eyebrows and turned his head toward his brother, waiting to hear him argue with the demon, but Sam remained silent. An unsure smile spread across Dean’s face, “Sam?” he asked, and when Sam still said nothing, Dean threw up his hands in exasperation and disbelief, “What the hell is going on? Sam, tell her.”

“It’s my decision,” Nancy cut in.

“Damn straight, cherry pie,” Ruby said with a grin.

“Stop! Stop!” Dean yelled, “Nobody kill any virgins.” He turned to look at his brother, “Sam, I need to talk to you.”

Dean walked into the hallway and Sam followed him. Dean could not believe that his brother wouldn’t argue against killing an innocent girl. He’d seen how his brother had hardened over the last several months, but there was a world of difference between killing humans that were doing evil, and slaughtering an innocent person. He had to know what Sam was thinking.

“Please tell me you’re not actually considering this. We’re talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her heart,” Dean said, green eyes pleading with Sam.

Sam’s face was hard and serious, “And we’re also talking about 30 people out there, Dean. Innocent people who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here.” Sam had learned over the last month that sometimes to win the war you had to make choices that meant someone getting hurt. Sam now understood about himself that there was no sacrifice he wouldn’t make to save Dean. He’d cut Nancy’s heart out himself if it meant he wouldn’t have to endure the pain of Dean dying followed with the knowledge that his brother was being tortured endlessly in hell.

Dean could not believe this was the same brother that had been at his side for almost his entire life. The same Sam that as a child had insisted they carry a spider out of the room rather than kill it. He didn’t want to see the 30 people die or the demons win, but there were lines that should never be crossed, and this was one of those lines. “It doesn’t mean that we throw away the rule book and stop acting like humans,” Dean said, “I’m not gonna let that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl, who hasn’t even been laid. I mean, look, if that’s how you win wars, then I don’t want to win.”

And that was the problem they kept running up against. Dean would die for his principles. Sam might give his own life in the same way, but he would give up every conviction he had in order to save his brother. When the chips had really fallen, Dean had given up every principle he’d held dear to make the deal with a demon that had saved Sam’s life. Dean stubbornly refused to see that Sam was only doing the very thing Dean had done with the roles reversed. Sam couldn’t see that Dean was only trying to protect Sam from ending up in the predicament the eldest Winchester was now mired in.

“Then what? What do we do, Dean?” Sam asked throwing up his hands. Dean took a breath and turned away from his brother for a moment, before facing him again and saying, “I got a plan. I’m not saying it's a good one. I’m not even saying that it’ll work. But it sure as hell beats killing a virgin.”

Sam took a breath, “Okay, so, what’s the plan?”

“Open the doors, let them all in and we fight.”

* * * * *

They set up the recording and made all the preparations for Dean’s plan to kill all the demons while sparing every human possible.

“So, this is insane,” Sam said, shaking his head. 

Ruby huffed, “You win understatement of the year.”

“Look , I get it, you think–” Dean started but was cut off by Ruby.

“I don’t think…I know. It’s not gonna work,” she stood to leave, “So long, boys.”

Sam looked at her with raised brows, “So, you’re just gonna leave?”

“Hey. I was gonna kill myself to help you win. I’m not gonna stand here and watch you lose,” She took a step closer to Sam, “And I’m disappointed because I tried. I really did, but clearly I bet on the wrong horse.” Sam said nothing, but Dean didn’t miss the wounded look in those hazel eyes. “Do you mind letting me out?” Ruby asked.

As she left, Sam’s heart sank. It wasn’t just because he didn’t want to face this battle without her on their side, but because he needed her to save Dean. He needed her blood, and there was no telling if she would come back to him after he failed to take her side in this battle.

* * * * *

They’d made it out. Dean’s plan had worked and they’d exorcised the 30 demons and managed to save everyone without killing the virgin. The drive back to the motel had been tense and silent. Dean not asking the questions he desperately wanted answers to; and Sam not offering information he didn’t feel ready to explain.

Now Sam lay on his back on the lumpy motel mattress, staring at the ceiling, wondering how he was going to continue working to save Dean, possibly without Ruby’s help now. And even more problematic, how he was going to continue to hide his practice and powers from his increasingly suspicious older brother. He was yanked from his thoughts by a knock on the door. He sat up as Dean opened the door, and was close to being shocked by the sight of Ruby walking through the door.

“Turn on the news,” she demanded. Sam pointed the remote at the ancient set and clicked the button. A reporter explained that there had been an explosion, probably a gas main, and everyone at the police station, including two fugitives had been killed. Pictures of Henrikson and Nancy flashed across the screen along with the others that were now dead.

Ruby flicked off the TV and spun on her heel to flash a heated “I-told-you-so” look at the brothers.

“Must have happened right after we left.” Sam said.

“Considering the size of the blast,” Ruby said tossing hex bags to each of them, “smart money’s on Lilith.”

“What’s in these?” Dean asked.

“Something that’ll protect you. Throw Lilith off your trail… for the time being, at least.”

“Thanks,” Sam said meekly.

“Don’t thank me,” Ruby spat, voice full of venom, “Lilith killed everyone. She slaughtered your precious little virgin, plus a half a dozen other people. So after your big speech about humanity and war, turns out your plan was the one with the body count. Do you know how to run a battle? You strike fast and you don’t leave any survivors. So no one can go running to tell the boss. So next time… we go with my plan.”

Ruby left without waiting for an answer from either of them. Sam just watched after her. She was right, and he’d known she would be. He could no longer afford to be soft. Not at all; not for anyone. If he was going to save his brother, nothing could be more important than that. And if it meant Sam had to harden his heart, or drink demon blood and become a monster, or slaughter every virgin between here and Colorado, he was not going to let anything hurt Dean.

* * * * *

Sam let himself get talked into working a case when Dean called the Morton House their “Grand Canyon,” said he couldn’t die without solving that case, and since it _was_ a leap year, it was the perfect time. He’d been furious with Dean when they ended up sealed inside the house and it seemed like they would die when he was supposed to have 2 more months with his brother. 

Then Sam had been grabbed and held captive by the ghost and Dean had nearly lost his mind completely. He could not face the chance of losing Sammy, not because of something he’d forced Sam into doing in the first place. Once he had Sam back in front of him, he could hardly wait until they had a second alone and away from the cameras those idiot Ghost Facers kept pointing at them before he grabbed onto his little brother and held him so tight Sam couldn’t breathe.

Sam had pulled back and looked into Dean’s emerald gaze and saw the terror there. He stroked a big hand along his brother’s jaw and shushed him, “It’s ok, Dean. I’m here. Right here. Safe with you. You saved me, Dean.” Then Sam had pulled Dean back in close, tucking Dean’s head under his chin and stroking his big brother’s back.

Things shifted after that. The boys still had more distance than usual between them, but some of the tension dissipated. There was more talking, though secrets still loomed under the surface. The touching came back, stolen kisses, a reassuring hand wrapped around the back of a neck. Sam crawled into bed with Dean, and Dean let him. When Dean woke screaming from a nightmare that night, he quietly accepted Sam’s arms and lips as he whispered into his ear and held him tight.

* * * * *

Sam held his hand in front of him, brow furrowed in concentration. He had the demon pinned against the wall, and as he twisted his hand into a fist, the demon writhed and screamed in pain. He was very close to perfecting his powers. There seemed to be little left to train for. He only needed to keep flexing these muscles and he would be ready to take on whichever demon it was that held Dean’s contract as soon as they could figure out who it was and hunt them down.

He’d had to get more creative at finding time away from Dean now that Dean knew he’d been secretly in contact with Ruby. Sam no longer took off at night, he stayed in bed wrapped around Dean, waiting for the nightly nightmare to rip Dean from sleep and leaving him pale and heaving for breath. He waited until Dean was fully absorbed in a case, or working on the Impala, times when Sam knew Dean would expect him not to be at his side, if Dean even noticed his absence at all.

Sam still hated lying to his brother, but he knew in the end, when he could kill the demon that held Dean’s contract and spare his brother the torture of the hell that haunted his nightmares, it would all be worth it.

[Chapter 10](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/9064.html)


	10. Chapter 10

  
**Warnings** : Wincest, talk of blood drinking, explicit sex, fingering, barebacking  
  
  
 **AN #1** : I have borrowed dialogue from 3.14 “Long-Distance Call.” Of course I can never resist twisting Show’s words for my own amusement.  


** Worth It – Chapter 10 **

They did another exhaustive round of research. Plundered Bobby’s library, checked in every obscure collection they could get their hands on in every library Sam thought had even the remotest possibility of holding something about demons or hell. All Sam really needed at this point was the name of the demon responsible for Dean’s deal, but he let Dean believe he was looking for some spell or other way of breaking a demon deal. Of course, Sam continued to secretly work with Ruby, but so far was successful at keeping it hidden from his brother. 

Every time they came away empty handed, Dean seemed to deflate a little more. He continued having nightly nightmares, and as the months he had left turned into weeks, he was becoming increasingly anxious and desperate about his deal. Sam held him each night, using his body to provide the only comfort he had to offer Dean. He’d pull Dean’s tense body against his taller frame, rubbing his hands over Dean’s back, whispering into his ear, raining kisses on Dean’s temple. Dean would cling to Sam, hands fisted in his little brother’s t-shirt, whole body quaking. As Sam’s words made it through to Dean and the terror of the nightmare started to fade, Dean would pull Sam into a fierce kiss.

They never talked about it in the morning. Dean refused to acknowledge in the light of day how scared he really was, and he seemed less and less able to fully invest himself in the research around his deal. Sam understood Dean’s need to deny the nightmares and the fear. Most days he indulged it, but sometimes he was unable to hide his frustration. 

Sam had spent the better part of the morning talking to a professor it had taken them weeks to track down. She specialized in demonology and had completed a thesis about crossroads demons and the stories of the “delusional” people who sold their souls. He walked across the city square to where Dean sat on a bench talking on his cell phone.

“Yep. I got it. Okay, bye,” Dean said, hanging up his phone and looking up at Sam. “So?” he asked.

“So, the professor doesn't know crap,” Sam said.

Dean shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth as he stood, “Shocking. Pack your panties, Sammy, we're hitting the road,” he said with a smack to Sam’s arm.

“What?” Sam asked, surprised, “What's up?”

  
“That was Bobby,” Dean explained, “Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio and he thinks there's a spirit involved.

“So you two were talking a case?”

Dean took a breath and resisted rolling his eyes, “No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favorite boy bands. Yeah, we were talking a case!”

Drawing on every ounce of patience he had, Sam avoided commenting on Dean’s sarcasm, “So a spirit, what?”

“Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer was flipping on and off.”

“Huh...” Sam managed. 

“This is not ringing your bell?” Dean asked.

“Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case.” Sam could see how Dean would avoid his fear about his deal by delving into a case. Sam knew the real answer didn’t lie in any research about demons, but in his training with Ruby. However, if he didn’t at least resist a little, Dean would be suspicious. 

“Whose?”

“Yours,” Sam answered.

“Right. Yeah,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Well, you coulda fooled me,” he said and turned away.

“What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?” Sam was irritated, even if Dean didn’t know about everything Sam had poured into training with Ruby and sacrificing his own humanity to drink demon blood, he sure as hell was aware of all the hours Sam had spent in libraries and talking with stuffy oddball professors.

“Chasing our tails, that's what,” Dean said, then took a step closer to his brother, “Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower 48. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job.”

Sam looked down, then back up into his brother’s eyes, “Well there's one thing we haven't tried yet...”

Dean blew out a breath, knowing where Sam was headed with this, “Sam, no.”

Sam pressed on, “We should summon Ruby.” Dean didn’t need to know that Sam had already been working with her all this time. The argument to summon her was actually the perfect cover. Anyway, Ruby might actually have a lead on the name of the demon.

Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head “I'm not gonna have this fight with you.”

Sam was tired of Dean’s attitude where Ruby was concerned. She might be a demon, but she had given Sam the only hope they had of actually saving Dean from his deal. “She said she knows how to save you.”

“Well, she can't.”

“Oh really, you know that for sure?” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I do.”

“How?”

“Because she told me, okay!” Dean blurted out.

“What?” Sam asked, incredulous. When had Dean talked to Ruby?

Dean took a breath and softened his tone a bit, “She told me. Flat out. She can't save me, nobody can.”

Sam was livid. It didn’t matter what Ruby had said to his brother, Sam knew _he_ would be the one to save Dean, not Ruby. What mattered was that Dean had been lying to him this entire time. Dean had thought for God knows how long that there was no way to break his deal, and he’d kept it from Sam. “And you just somehow neglected to mention this to me?” Sam asked.

Dean looked away then back, “Well, I really don't care what that bitch thinks and neither should you, so...”

“So what, now you're keeping secrets from me, Dean?”

Dean couldn’t believe the nerve of his brother. Sam had snuck around for months, had obviously been talking to Ruby, and had hidden the truth about Lilith being after Sam. “You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?” Dean tossed back.

The two stared at each other, both knowing they were dancing on the edge of a minefield with this particular conversation. Neither wanted to give the other the satisfaction of admitting being wrong, but they were both also loathe to return to the tension they’d barely begun to leave behind them. Sam turned from his brother and started walking back toward the car.

Dean let this head fall back. He was frustrated with Sam, but he really didn’t want to argue with him and waste the precious little time they had left together. If he hadn’t been worn so thin between lack of sleep and the abject terror of facing an eternity in hell, he would never have said that to his brother that way. “Now where you going?” he asked after Sam.

Sam didn’t turn, just kept walking and threw up his hands as he said, “Guess I'm going to Ohio.”

* * * * *

They drove in silence. Dean regretted having let slip the comment that brought back the tension between them, but he refused to apologize. He had been putting up with Sam’s lying and sneaking around and keeping secrets for months; for Sam to get pissy about Dean keeping one thing tucked away was ridiculous. Besides, he’d only done it to protect Sam. His brother needed the hope of saving Dean to cope with getting through this.

Sam hunched in the passenger seat and stared out the window. He hated hiding things from Dean, but there was no way to share this with his brother. If Dean knew Sam was working with Ruby and now drinking demon blood he would never forgive Sam, and more likely than not would find a way to force Sam to stop. Sam couldn’t afford a set-back like that now. He needed every minute he had left to strengthen his powers so that once they tracked down the demon that held Dean’s contract Sam would be able to kill it.

* * * * *

Dean paced the motel room, still reeling from what he was fairly certain was the sound of his dead father’s voice on his cell phone. Sam sat on the end of one of the beds and watched with concern. 

“Dad?” Sam asked, “You really think it was Dad?” Sam wanted to be hopeful about this. John might be able to help Dean. But if it really was his father, who had been in hell, surrounded by demons, John may very well be aware of Sam’s extra-curricular activities. The absolute last thing Sam needed right now was an argument with his father about what a disappointment he was. Or for John to tell Dean that Sam had been drinking demon blood.

“I don't know, maybe.” Dean really didn’t know, didn’t have a clue if it was even possible. But, with all the dead ends they’d faced around his deal, the idea of being able to talk to his father who had made a deal and been to hell was a lifeline that Dean desperately needed to cling to. 

Sam wasn’t convinced, but they had seen far stranger things. Besides, Sam knew the relationship between Dean and John had been important to his brother. Dean had always drawn strength and comfort in following John’s lead, and Sam didn’t want to yank that comfort from his brother until he had proof of what was happening in this town. “Well what did he sound like?” 

“Like Oprah!” Dean spat out impatiently, “Like Dad, he sounded like Dad, what do you think?” Dean sensed Sam’s reluctance, and his mind raced trying to understand why. Sam’s feelings about their father really shouldn’t matter if Dean’s life was on the line. Dean’s guilty mind toyed with the idea that Sam was regretting their relationship, wishing he’d never had sex with Dean. Maybe the sneaking around and lying pointed to something more basic than Dean had considered before. Maybe Sam was cheating, had found some nice girl he could have a “normal” relationship with and now he just needed Dean out of the way. The better part of Dean’s mind knew that was ridiculous, that of course Sam loved him and Sam was never the kind of man that would cheat. Dean shook his head, trying to dismiss the image.

“What did he say?” Sam asked.

“My name.”

“That's it?”

“Call dropped out,” Dean explained, continuing to pace the floor.

“Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?”

“I don't know, man. Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said, more a question than an answer.

Dean sat down carefully on the other bed. “Okay, so what if....what if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I say?” Dean asked anxiously. If this was his one chance to get advice from his father that might save his life, he didn’t want to screw it up.

“Hello?” Sam tried. 

“Hello?” Dean asked, incredulous. Sam shrugged at him, not really sure what to say.

“That's what you come back with. Hello?”

“Uhh...” Sam just didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help Dean, he just never knew what to say to his father. Sam and John hadn’t been able to get through a conversation without arguing since Sam was 12.

Dean grabbed his jacket and stalked toward the door, yanking it open. “Hello!?” Dean knew his brother wasn’t his father’s biggest fan, and that Sam hated talking to John, but he thought his brother would at least be able to get past that opinion of his father long enough to help him piece together how to get advice from John that might save Dean’s life. Dean walked out and all Sam could do was watch after him. 

* * * * *

When Dean returned a few hours later with a pamphlet about the spirit phone housed in the town’s small museum, his face lacked the lines of tension that had been there when he left. Neither brought up the discussion from earlier, John, or the fact that Dean had basically stormed out. Instead they focused their energy on investigating the possibility that the spirit phone was behind all the calls from beyond the grave. 

They went to the museum to check the spirit phone, and then returned to their room for the night. Sam went to bed, but Dean stayed up. He hadn’t been sleeping well, and sometimes he would forego the struggle with the nightmares and skip even attempting to sleep for the night. He sat at the motel’s small table, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. When the caller ID flashed the antique number he snatched it up, answering it and sealing himself behind the bathroom door to talk to his father.

* * * * *

Almost as soon as he’d hung up with his father, Dean began researching the information John had given him. His father had said the demon that held Dean’s deal was here, and then given him an exorcism that could kill it. It was the answer he’d been waiting for. A way to end his deal and keep Sammy safe. Dean was still clicking away furiously on the laptop when Sam came back from talking to Lanie.

“What's up?” Dean asked, barely looking away from the laptop.

“That girl Lanie, her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night.”

“That sucks,” this time his eyes never left the screen.

“Yeah it does. What are you doing?” Sam asked.

“I think Dad's right. I think the demon is here. Check it out.” Dean handed a stack of papers and notes to Sam as he walked past him to his duffel.

“What is this, weather reports?” asked Sam.

“Omens,” Dean answered, “Demonic omens. Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks.”

Sam frowned, “Uhh...I don't remember any lightning storms.”

“Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology as a kid either,” Dean replied testily, “But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me...wearing some poor dude's meat.”

“And it's following you because...”

“I guess I'm big game,” Dean said with a smirk and a wink, “you know. My ass is too sweet to let outta sight.”

“Okay. Sure.”

Dean frowned and snatched the papers back from his little brother, “Don't get too excited, Sammy. Might pull something.”

“Dean, look, I wanna believe this man, I really do...”

“Then believe it! If we get this sucker, it's Miller Time.”

“Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean not just send it back to hell, but kill it?”

“I've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century.”

Sam sighed, “Yeah,” he said softly, “I've checked on it too Dean. And so did Bobby.”

“Okay, and?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

“Look. It definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon.”

“No evidence it can't,” Dean countered.

“Come on man...” 

“Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to hell is Dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work.”

“Maybe it does. I hope it does too, but we gotta be sure,” Sam pressed.

“Why aren't we sure?” Dean asked.

“’Cause I don't know what's going on around here Dean!” Sam said, his composure was slipping and the volume of his voice crept up, “I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits.”

“Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash Sam, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!” Dean was shouting now. He was desperate for a way to end his deal and so frustrated with his brother. Why did Sam not want to save him? The brothers simply stared at each other for a moment, before Sam heaved a sigh and Dean’s head dropped.

“Dad tell you where to find the demon?” Sam asked, voice thin and weary. He knew Dean needed an answer, but he was also fairly certain this was not it.

“I'm waiting on the call!” Dean shouted impatiently, throwing his hands up.

Sam sighed heavily again, “I told Lanie I'd stop by.” 

The mention of Sam leaving only pushed Dean further. He was sure his little brother leaving had less to do with helping the case and more to do with whatever the secret was that he continued to hide from Dean.

“Oh, good yeah,” Dean bit out sarcastically, “No you go hang out with jail bait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile I'll be here getting ready to, you know, save my life.” Sam ignored his brother’s venomous outburst and continued toward the door, but Dean wasn’t finished. “You're unbelievable, you know that?” he shouted, “I mean for months we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now Dad's about to give us the freaking address and you can't accept it? The man is dead and you're still butting heads with the guy!”

That stopped Sam. “That is not what this is about,” he said.

“So what is it?!”

“The fact is we've got no hard proof here, Dean,” Sam had finally really lost his cool and now he was shouting back at his brother, “After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!”

“Yeah, well maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay?” Dean was still heated, and shouting. He’d said it without thinking, but the truth in that statement hit them both like a solid punch to the chest. The boys stood staring at each other again, Sam half out the door, Dean frozen to the spot. As Dean realized just how vulnerable his admission left him, he dropped his gaze to the carpet. Sam had seen him at his weakest much too often lately for his liking and he hated that he’d let that slip out that way.

Sam felt tears sting at the back of his eyes. He knew Dean was slowly falling apart in front of him between the stress of his deal and the nightmares and trying to quietly cope with the lies Sam was still forced to tell him. It broke Sam’s heart to see his strong, powerful big brother so small and scared. 

Sam took the few steps across the room and was in Dean’s space before his brother even registered that he’d moved. He wrapped one arm around Dean’s waist and his free hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulled his brother into a kiss. His lips moved against Dean’s with all the deep passion and tenderness he felt. 

Dean whimpered out a tiny moan in the back of his throat, and then thrust his hands into Sam’s hair, burying himself in the kiss. He needed this, hated that he needed it so much, but right now the only thing in the world he could imagine bringing him any comfort at all was his brother’s warm lips, and all the love that Sam was pouring out for him.

Without breaking the kiss, Dean turned them and started backing Sam toward the bed. Sam pedaled his feet backward, letting Dean have the control that he understood his older brother needed right now. 

Dean never stopped kissing Sam as he unzipped his brother’s jacket and worked the buttons of his over shirt open. He shoved Sam’s jacket and over shirt down his arms and off, letting them fall to the floor. Dean ran his hands down Sam’s chest, and then pushed his fingers under his t-shirt, shoving the fabric up as his hands smoothed over the planes of Sam’s abs and chest. He finally pulled his mouth from Sam’s just long enough to yank the shirt over Sam’s head. 

He grabbed his brother’s face and pulled him back into another kiss that was at once deeply sweet and dirty hot. Sam opened his mouth wider to let his brother’s tongue plunder it completely.

They moaned in unison as Dean pushed his hands into Sam’s hair and tugged. Sam’s hands fumbled as he tried to kick off his shoes and unbutton his jeans without breaking contact with Dean. Dean ripped his lips from his brother’s, he didn’t want to lose the feel of Sam’s mouth against his, but he needed to get his own clothes off. 

Sam finished removing his shoes and jeans and sat heavily on the bed as he watched his brother strip. He would never tire of the sight of Dean’s freckled skin being revealed this way, or the play of muscles as he bent to pull off his boots and then kneel on the bed between Sam’s bent knees.

Sam smiled up as Dean bent over him, resting his weight on his hands to either side of Sam’s head. Dean smiled back, equal parts adoration and heat. Sam reached a hand up and traced the stubbled line of Dean’s jaw; Dean turned his head and placed a kiss into Sam’s palm. And then he looked back to his brother’s face and winked as he quickly turned and sucked Sam’s thumb into his mouth. 

Sam bit back a moan as Dean nipped at the pad of his thumb before he wrapped his tongue around it and sucked the digit deeper. Dean wrapped his hand around Sam’s hard cock and stroked as he continued to work his mouth around his brother’s thumb.

Sam bucked into Dean’s touch and moaned, he watched Dean’s full lips around his thumb and that sight combined with the expert way Dean was working his dick had Sam’s belly twisted with lust. A glance into emerald eyes brought a wave of affection that reminded him why he’d started this. Dean needed him; needed to feel the power of the love between them. And honestly, after the last weeks of tension, Sam needed it too.

Sam pulled his thumb from Dean’s mouth and leaned up for another kiss. He wrapped his hands around the back of Dean’s neck, bringing his brother down with him as he lay back against the pillows.

Dean pulled back from the kiss, tugging at Sam’s lower lip as they parted. His hand pushed into Sam’s hair again as he kissed along Sam’s jaw and down his neck. Sam ran his blunt fingernails up Dean’s spine, drawing a shiver from his brother.

“Sammy,” Dean whispered raggedly. One word, a thousand meanings, and every emotion Dean had. Dean devoured Sam’s pink lips in another kiss that erupted with every one of those feelings. 

“Dean,” Sam answered breathlessly, experiencing every same thing as his brother. They would always be utterly, desperately intertwined, connected in a way no outsider could ever comprehend. And this, this is all that really mattered to either of them in the end. This link that kept them bonded in a way neither ever wanted to be free from. 

Dean’s weight pressed Sam into the mattress as he lowered his body onto his brother’s. The slow spread of skin to skin contact ignited every nerve in Sam’s body and Dean reveled in the feeling of his brother without anything to separate them. When Dean’s cock dragged along Sam’s he threw his head back and cursed. Sam gripped Dean’s hips and ground up into his brother, drawing deep needy moans from them both.

“Fuck, Sammy, need you,” Dean said, he reached a hand between them and his finger ghosted over Sam’s hole, “Can I?” Sam nodded eagerly. Sam needed Dean, needed to feel him deep inside, and he knew his brother craved the connection as much as the sex. 

Dean poured lube onto his fingers and warmed it before tracing a finger around Sam’s pucker. Once he could feel the invitation of Sam’s body relaxing, he pushed his finger in. Sam accepted the first easily and breathed out, “More, Dean.” 

Dean dropped his head to Sam’s chest, placing open-mouthed kisses over the tanned skin as he gently but quickly pushed a second finger in. Sam drew a deep breath and relaxed into the stretch, and as Dean felt the muscles loosen he fucked his fingers in and out, alternately scissoring them and crooking them into Sam’s prostate. 

It wasn’t long before Sam was pushing back into Dean’s hand, moaning and again asking his brother for more. Dean pushed a third finger in and worked his brother the rest of the way open. He needed to fill Sam, needed to be inside his brother; craved that closeness.

He looked into Sam’s hazel eyes, dark with lust, bright with love, “You ready, baby boy?” 

“Yes, Dean. Please. Need you,” Sam pleaded, echoing Dean’s earlier words. 

Dean slicked his cock and leaned in to kiss Sam’s pink lips as he lined up and pushed in. He watched his brother’s face as he pushed in slowly, both of them feeling every inch as their bodies joined.

When Dean was fully seated, he paused and leaned down for another kiss. Sam worked Dean’s full and kiss swollen lips hungrily. 

“Move. Please, god, Dean, please move,” he begged his brother. Dean drew back slowly, and then thrust back into his brother in a single quick motion. Sam bit his lip as he tried to hold back a moan. He wrapped his legs around his brother’s waist and dug his hands into Dean’s back.

Dean braced himself on his hands as he fell into the rhythm of working his cock in and out of his brother’s tight heat. He undulated, rotated and worked his hips, searching for just the right angle and pace to bring his brother over.

When Sam’s mouth opened in a howling moan, Dean knew he’d found it. He watched his beautiful brother coming apart underneath him, felt Sam’s muscles tightening and quivering around him and Dean felt the tightening in his balls, the tingle in his spine. They were both so close.

Dean balanced on his elbow and leaned down, “Look at me, Sammy,” he husked into Sam’s ear. Hazel eyes met smoldering emerald, love sparking and sizzling under the surface of the lust and their quickly approaching orgasms. 

They went careening over the edge at the same moment, staring into each other’s eyes, each crying out the other’s name as they came explosive and sweet. 

Dean rolled them both as he collapsed onto the mattress, pulling Sam against him. Sam placed a kiss to Dean’s tattoo before laying his head down on his brother’s chest. Dean’s fingers danced along Sam’s spine as they lay together, allowing their breathing to return to normal. Full quiet minutes passed as they each soaked in all the emotions swirling around them.

Finally, Sam lifted his head from its resting place over Dean’s heart. “Um, Dean,” he started, “I really do need to go make sure Lanie is alright. She was pretty freaked out man.”

Dean crooked up one side of his full lips. “I know, Sammy,” he said, placing a gentle kiss to Sam’s pink lips. Sam let himself get lost in kissing Dean for just a minute, and then gently pulled back. He knew Dean didn’t really want him to go, but his brother would never stop him from finishing a case. Sam worried Dean would sneak off on his own to try meeting up with the demon to test his father’s spell.

Sam stood and dressed quickly, and then turned to his brother still resting back against the headboard. “Please,” Sam said, looking right into Dean’s bright green eyes, “Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Dean? Please.” He placed a kiss to the bridge of Dean’s nose when Dean nodded slightly.

Sam glanced back at his brother one last time before he closed the door behind him. As soon as it snicked into place, Dean stood and got dressed. He grabbed the paper with the spell, double checked the address and headed out. If there was even the smallest chance this could end his deal and save him without harming Sam, he had to take it.

* * * * *

Sam leaned up against the headboard, Dean’s head resting on his chest. It had been a difficult case; not only contending with the memory of their father and all the unresolved emotions there, but the ever intensifying anxiety around Dean’s deal that would be coming due all-too-soon. Dean lay quietly, listening to the steady beat of his brother’s heart, fingers playing over Sam’s skin absent-mindedly.

“Hey,” Sam started gently, “um...look I'm sorry it wasn't Dad.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from his brother as his fingers stilled for a moment. Dean seemed to force himself to sound casual, tracing Sam’s collarbone as he said, “Nah, I gave you a hell of a time on this one.”

“Ehhhh,” Sam said, trying to head off a classic Dean guilt-trip before it grew too large.

Dean lifted his head to look into Sam’s eyes, “You were right.”

“Forget about it.”

Dean’s head remained raised, but his eyes dropped and he stared at the protection tattoo over Sam’s heart. “I can't,” he said shakily, “I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this.” Dean paused, shaking his head gently, “I mean I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just...” he trailed off and Sam could see the gleam of tears forming in his brother’s green eyes.

Sam stroked a hand up his brother’s neck, “Yeah,” he said gently, placing a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead.

The first tear escaped the corner of Dean’s eye and rolled traitorously down his cheek, “I'm scared, Sam,” he drew a shaking breath as another tear leaked out, “I'm really scared.” Dean pressed his head forward, ducking into the crook of Sam’s neck and pulling in Sam’s familiar comforting scent with a deep ragged inhalation.

Sam found his breath shaking as he drew in slow and deep. His eyes stung, “I know.” Sam stroked a hand through Dean’s short hair, the other arm wrapping around his brother and pulling him in tight. Dean snaked an arm around Sam and they lay just quietly clinging to each other for a moment.

“I guess I was willing to believe anything,” Dean said, snorting gently, “You know, the last act of a desperate man. 

Sam tilted Dean’s head up and looked deep into his eyes before kissing his full lips slow and absolute, “There's nothing wrong with having hope, Dean,” he whispered against his brother’s lips. 

Dean kissed Sam again and drew in a deep breath before pulling back to look at Sam’s face, “Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute,” Dean shook his head and looked down for a moment before looking back into his brother’s hazel eyes again, “I can't expect anybody to, you know. I mean the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.”

Sam’s big hand came up to cup Dean’s face, “And me.” He stroked his thumb over Dean’s jaw, “Dean, you are not alone in this. I will _not_ let you go to hell.” It was a promise Sam was making to himself as much to Dean. He could not fail his brother. Not this time.

[Chapter 11](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/9574.html)   



	11. Chapter 11

**Warnings** : Wincest, blood drinking, fingering, barebacking, demon torture  
 **AN #1** : I have borrowed dialogue from 3.15 “Time Is On My Side.” Of course I can never resist twisting Show’s words for my own amusement.  


** Worth It – Chapter 11 **

Sam clutched his phone in his hand, knuckles going white with tension as it rang without answer from the other end for the fifth time in as many hours. It had been days, almost a week since she’d answered, and Sam was getting desperate. He listened to the voicemail greeting, waiting for the tone.

“Ruby, where the hell are you?” he asked, his voice a dark growl, “I’ve got three weeks. Dean’s deal is up in three weeks, and….” Sam drew a heavy ragged sigh, “and you know, you _know_ I need your help to be ready. Call me back.” Sam hit the end call button and jammed the phone back into his pocket.

* * * * *

Dean wrapped a towel around his waist as he stepped from the shower and swiped a hand through the steam on the mirror. He studied his reflection, the dark bags under his bloodshot eyes a clear tell of his inability to sleep for more than an hour at a time. Even the warm reassurance of his brother’s strong body wrapped around him at night wasn’t enough to save him from the horror in his nightmares. 

Currently they starred hellhounds, huge and smelly and invisible, chasing him endlessly until his lungs burned and his legs gave out. As he collapsed, hot, dank breath would hit his face just a second before the claws would rip open his chest. He always woke screaming Sam’s name at that point. Shaking and sweating, and his brother would wrap him back up in strong arms, pull Dean’s head into the crook of his neck, and stroke his hair. Whisper the words Dean loathed needing to hear, “I got you, Dean, you’re ok, you’re safe.”

If Dean dared to return to sleep, he’d find himself face to face with the black-eyed version of himself. That was worse than the dogs, the reminder of the true end result of his deal. Not only was he going to hell, facing an eternity of torture and the loss of his humanity. He would lose himself, everything that made him Dean Winchester. Including every memory he had of Sam.

* * * * *

They continued searching for the name of the demon that held Dean’s deal. Dean still believed Bobby would find Bela and they’d get the Colt back; Sam believed Ruby would return to finish his training. Both needed a name to carry out the plan that would stop Dean from going to hell.

Which is why they found themselves in an abandoned cabin, with a demon tied to a chair locked in place with a devil’s trap.

Dean threw another generous splash of holy water across the demon’s face, “You ready to talk?”

“I don't know. I don't know anything!” the demon choked out between pained gasps.

Dean raised an eyebrow and turned to his brother, “Oh, you hear that, Sam? He doesn't know anything.”

Sam smirked at Dean’s sarcasm, “Yeah, I heard.”

“I'm telling you the truth,” the demon insisted.

“Oh, you are?” Dean asked mockingly, “My god, then I owe you an apology. Allow me to make it up to you.” He forced the demon’s jaw open and poured holy water into its mouth, as it boiled and bubbled back out foaming red with blood Dean shouted, “I'm gonna ask you one last time...Who holds my contract?!”

The demon’s head dropped and he went silent for a moment. When he raised his head back up, his eyes were black and he wore an evilly calm grin. “Your mother. Yeah, she, uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over.”

Dean ignored the taunt. He leaned in close, voice low and dangerous, “I want a name. Or else...”

“Or what?” the demon asked, cutting him off, “You're gonna squirt your holy water in both ends? Please. Brother, that's like a fleabite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket.”

Sam raised an eyebrow to that before quickly forcing his face back into a neutral expression. If the demon holding Dean’s deal was that powerful, he needed to find Ruby, needed to finish his training. He looked down at his hand which had developed a slight tremor over the last couple of days; he shook it out and then fisted it before shoving it into his pocket. He could already feel his powers slipping; he knew he couldn’t face a demon with that kind of strength right now. In fact he feared even at full force he might not be able to take down a demon like that.

Sam looked up to catch his brother giving him the look that was his cue to begin the exorcism. Sam began reciting the Latin, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”

“How does that feel?” Dean taunted, “Does that feel good?”

“Go ahead. Send me back to hell... 'Cause when you get there, I'll be waiting for you...with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester.”

“Should I?” Sam asked his brother as he sneered at the demon.

“Send him someplace he can't hurt anyone else,” Dean answered.

As Sam picked up the exorcism where he’d left off, the demon twisted and screamed and Dean tried to shrug off the thoughts of all the evil things he’d sent to hell that were now waiting for him.

* * * * *

Sam needed to buy time, time to find Ruby and then to finish his training. To get that he was going to need a distraction for his brother. A very good distraction. He had been scouring papers for days and finally something caught his eye. A guy walked into an ER with his liver surgically removed. He knew Dean would see it as a chance to fight some zombies. Sam thought there might be a chance that it was Doc Benton, a doctor stealing body parts on his journey through immortality that John had once fought. Zombies or Benton, it would keep Dean busy, and if it was Doc Benton then maybe Sam and Dean could learn his secret, use it to buy Dean enough extra time for Sam to fully build his strength and find the demon holding Dean’s contract and kill it.

Dean had gone for it, jumped at the chance for “some hot zombie action,” and they had headed to Pennsylvania. Sam kept trying to call Ruby, and only got her voice mail. He felt completely on-edge. His patience was worn so thin he found himself snapping at Dean and the tremors in his hands had only gotten worse. But the worst of it was he could practically feel his powers draining out. He had already feared the power and abilities he had were insufficient, if he had even less to work with how would he be able to save Dean? They only had three weeks left. Three weeks to find the name of the demon, track it down and Sam would need to be ready to take it out. Sam was facing the possibility of life without Dean, and he couldn’t stomach it.

Dean was in the bathroom and Sam dialed Ruby’s number again. Three rings, four, and then the recording of her snide voice came through and Sam snapped his phone shut and threw it across the room.

Dean heard the sound of Sam cursing and throwing his phone across the motel room. He sighed and let his head drop. His brother had been increasingly irritable lately, snapping at Dean, pacing. Dean wasn’t sure if Sam was sleeping, but he’d seen Sammy’s hands shaking more than once over the last several days. Dean cursed himself; this was all his fault. He’d had to make the deal to bring Sam back, and now as Dean’s deal was getting closer and closer to coming due, Sam was crumbling. The idea of being kept in hell away from his brother was bad enough, but the thought that Sam was going to fall apart was more than Dean could handle.

Dean heard the sound of his own phone ringing and opened the bathroom door. He saw Sam bent over a map of the area circling things as he walked across the room to retrieve his phone from the pocket of his jacket.

Sam continued working out possible places for Doc Benton’s hide-out as he listened to Dean’s half of the conversation with Bobby. Dean hung up and said to Sam, “Come on. We're going after Bela.”

Sam looked up, surprised, “What? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.”

Dean moved to put on his jacket, “Come on. Get your stuff. The clock's ticking.”

Sam didn’t want to take off; he’d left messages for Ruby to meet him, here in Erie. He was having enough trouble catching up with her; he didn’t want to disappear randomly to chase what _might_ be a _possible_ lead on Bela. Anyway, the chances of Bela even having the Colt were miniscule. “Look, I think we should stay here and finish the case.”

“You insane?” Dean asked. He had no idea why Sam would want to stay here on some case, when they’d been looking for Bela and the Colt for weeks.

“Dean, there's no way she still has the Colt! That was months ago! She probably sold it the second she got it.”

“Well, then I'll kill her. Win-win,” Dean said with an angry smirk.

“Dean...”

“Sam. We're going!” Dean said in his big-brother-final-decision voice.

“No!” Sam shouted back. Dean was not making a unilateral decision on this one. Sam needed to stay here, he needed to be available to Ruby when she showed up. His training had to come before everything else. 

“Why the hell not?”

Sam couldn’t tell Dean he was waiting for Ruby so he could drink her blood and train his dark powers, so, he went with the story he thought would sound most like what Dean would expect to hear from Sam, “Dean, this, this here. Now. This is what's gonna save you.”

“What? Chasing some Frankenstein?” Dean asked acidly.

“Chasing immortality,” Sam said, which brought on a startled look from his brother, “Look, Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you.” Actually, now that Sam really considered that, if he could keep Dean from dying for just a little bit longer, he could use that time to train.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked.

“You have to die before you go to hell, right? So, if you can never die, then...”

“Wait, wait, wait. Wait a second. Did you know that this was Doc Benton from the jump?” Dean couldn’t help the doubts, Sam had been increasingly secretive.

“No,” Sam answered quietly, looking down at the floor before looking at his brother. Dean was staring at him with his head tilted in a question. “Look, I was hoping.”

“So the whole zombie thing, it was lying to me?”

“I didn't wanna say anything until I was sure, Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here.”

And that was it. Dean had really had it with Sam’s lies. It seemed to be one after the other lately. “No. What you're trying to do is chase Slicey McHackey here. And to kill him? No. You wanna buy him a freaking beer. You wanna study him.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“You're not helping!” Dean shouted, “You forget that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what, living forever is welching.”

“Fine!” Sam yelled back, “Then, whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too!”

Dean threw up his hands and shook his head, “Oh, what is this? Sid and Nancy? No. It's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon who owns the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot.”

“Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket.”

“Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?”

Sam took a breath before quietly answering, “I'm staying here.”

“No, you're not. 'Cause I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ stealing freak.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “You're not gonna let me?”

“No, I'm not gonna let you.”

“How are you gonna stop me?” Dean was completely taken aback by that. It was not at all like Sam to challenge him in that way. Sam took a breath and stepped toward Dean before continuing, “Look, man, we're trying to do the same thing here.” He ran his hands up Dean’s arms, coming to rest on his brother’s strong shoulders.

Dean sighed and looked up into his brother’s eyes, “I know. But I'm going. So if you wanna stay...stay.”

Sam didn’t answer, just leaned down and brushed his lips over Dean’s Dean kissed Sam back gently and then said, “Sammy, be careful.”

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, bringing him in closer and kissing him deep. He whispered against Dean’s full lips, “You too.”

* * * * *

Dean worried about Sam all the way to Vermont. His worry distracted him as he talked to Rufus and his mind was still on the safety of his little brother as he held the gun to Bela who confirmed Sam’s suspicions that she’d quickly sold it. But when he was on his way back to his Sammy and talking with him on the phone, his worry was calming. As his little brother excitedly told him it seemed that the formula for immortality was doable and in fact involved only “very very extremely weird science,” but no dark magic, he was lulled into believing Sam would be safe for the little time that remained before Dean’s drive brought him back to his brother’s side.

So when Sam was cut off in midsentence and Dean heard the sound of Sam’s phone crashing to the floor, panic gripped him. “Sam? Sammy!” he shouted into his phone. There was no answer, and Dean pressed Baby’s gas pedal all the way to the floor. He had to get to his brother. As he sped toward Sam, that faint glimmer of hope doused by fear, Rufus’s words rang through his head, “ Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us...there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming.”

* * * * *

Dean made it in time, he got into Doc Benton’s cabin to find Sammy tied to a table with his eyes taped open. That sick bastard was going to steal his Sammy’s beautiful hazel eyes. It felt good to stab Benton in the heart, better to stand over him as he woke tied to his own table.

“Oh, hiya, Doc. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bac-y,” Dean taunted over the scientist’s scarred face.

“Please,” Benton said.

“Please what? You've been killing poor bastards for over 150 years and now you got a request? Shut up.” Dean especially had no patience for this man since finding his little brother tied up on his table.

“No, you don't understand,” Benton said, “I can help you. I know what you need.”

Dean ignored him, saying to Sam, “We might have to cut him up into little bits. You know, this immortality thing is a bitch.”

“I can read the formula for you,” Benton tried, “You know...immortality...Forever young, never die.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected. The more Sam had failed to contact Ruby, the more he thought this might be the answer he needed. He knew Ruby was holding onto one final secret, that last step in his training, and Sam needed time to get that from her. He needed Dean to live longer than the three weeks they had left in order to track down Ruby, finish his training and save his brother. Doc Benton’s formula gave him that.

“Sam,” Dean said, warning in his tone. Sam walked through the doorway, jerking his head in indication that he wanted Dean to follow him out of the room. Dean walked through the door. “What?” he asked impatiently.

“I mean, we're talking hell in three weeks. Or needing a new pancreas in like half a century.”

“Yeah, well, you can't exactly get those at a Kwik-E-Mart,” Dean said impatiently. He did not want this. Using that formula was not the answer.

“It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something better. We just need time, Dean. I mean, please, just...just think about it.”

“No.” Dean answered.

“Dean, don't you want to live?”

Dean sighed, “What he is isn't living. Look, this is simple.”

“Simple?”

“To me it is, okay. Black or white; human, not human.” Dean had already decided this. The worst part of going to hell was losing his humanity, and that formula would steal that very same humanity. Dean walked back into the room and stood over Benton as he finished, “See, what the Doc is is a freakin' monster. I can't do it. I would rather go to hell.”

Sam swallowed hard. Those words hit him like a knife in his heart. Dean didn’t know that Sam had been drinking the demon blood, but that statement just made it all the more clear that once Dean discovered how far Sam had gone, Sam would lose his brother. If Dean was willing to die, willing to go to hell, rather than choose something “not human,” what would he think of his brother’s choices?

Benton called out, “You don't understand. I can help you!” Dean poured more chloroform onto his rag and put it over Benton’s nose and mouth.

“Now, I'm gonna take care of him,” Dean said, “You can either help me or not. It's up to you.”

* * * * *

Sam and Dean were in the Impala, headed safely away from Erie. Dean waited until he was sure Bela would be in their former motel room, probably having discovered the blow-up dolls the boys had left as decoys. He dialed the number and smiled when she picked up.

“Hiya, Bela. Here's a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket, when you swiped that motel receipt.”

“You don't understand,” she said.

Dean looked across the seat at Sam, then back to the road in front of him. “Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. See, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door. An herb. Devil's shoestring? There's only one use for that. Holding hellhounds at bay. So you know what I did, I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn't kill them. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Bela. And it's come due.” He paused, letting the fact that he had that information sink in. “Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal, our gun for your soul?”

“Yes,” Bela answered, voice thick with tears.

“But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing,” Dean continued.

“They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam.”

“Really! Wow, demons untrustworthy. Shocker,” Dean’s voice dripped sarcasm, “That's, uh, kind of a tight deadline too – what time is it? Well, look at that, almost midnight.”

Bela’s voice shook as she struggled to get her words out around her tears, “Dean, listen, I need help.”

“Sweetheart, we are weeks past help.”

“I know I don't deserve it,” she said.

“You know what, you're right, you don't. But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you.”

“I know, and saved yourself. I know about your deal, Dean.”

“And who told you that?” Dean asked.

“The Demon that holds it,” Bela answered, “She holds mine too. She said she holds every deal.”

“She?”

“Her name's Lilith.”

Dean looked over at Sam again as he asked, “Lilith? Why should I believe you?” Sam’s eyebrows shot up at that name. Why was Bela talking to Dean about Lilith? How did Bela even know about Lilith?

“You shouldn't but it's the truth,” Bela said to Dean.

“This can't help you, Bela, not now. Why you telling me this?” Dean asked.

“Because just maybe you can kill the bitch.”

“I'll see you in hell,” Dean said before hanging up. He pulled the Impala off the road and turned to Sam.

“We got a name Sammy,” Dean said with a disbelieving smile. After everything, all the hours of research and torture and searching, they finally, finally had the name of the demon that held Dean’s deal.

“How?” Sam asked, he couldn’t help but smile, as he watched Dean’s grin spread across his face.

“Bela, said it was the same demon that held her contract. Same demon, that holds all the contracts,” as Dean spoke, he was moving across the seat of the car. He turned and lifted one leg over his brother, ending up straddling Sam and smiling against Sam’s lips.

“And it’s Lilith?” Sam asked before receiving a mouthful of Dean.

Dean kissed Sam, and then pulled back smile still in place. “Yep. We got a name Sammy. That means we know who to hunt down and gank. It’s a lead, baby boy.” Dean wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and pressed into another kiss. Sam had doubts, a lead, a name, was good, but facing the most powerful demon, that was, well, Sam would figure out what that was later. Later, when he didn’t have a lapful of gorgeous and excited brother kissing him senseless.

Sam pushed his hands through Dean’s short hair and gripped the back of his head. He opened his mouth to Dean’s questing tongue. Sam kissed Dean deeply, swirling his tongue around his brothers, before pulling back just enough to break the kiss and move to Dean’s jaw. He kissed up Dean’s jaw line until he reached his ear. Sam sucked the lobe into his mouth and nipped at it. He traced the shell of Dean’s ear and let his lips hover there, breath hot in Dean’s ear as he whispered, “Gonna fuck you, Dean. Fuck you right here on the front seat of your baby.”

Dean groaned and pushed his hardening cock down to meet his brother’s growing erection. Things had been so heavy for so long, it felt incredible to have this one ray of hope, and a little dirty sex in the Impala was the best idea he’d heard in ages.

Sam answered with a moan and grasped Dean’s hips in his large hands, pulling his brother down as he pushed up. When their dicks came into contact, even through the layers of denim it sent electric thrills through both of them, and they both rutted into it.

Dean grabbed handfuls of Sam’s hair and pulled him into another kiss. He worked Sam’s mouth hungrily, tongue delving in and out, gently sucking at Sam’s bottom lip as he pulled back. Dean began to pull his coat and shirt off. He needed to be naked, he needed Sam naked, and he needed it right the fuck now. He tossed his shirt on the floor and reached for Sam’s, tugging the layers off impatiently. 

As soon as he had Sam’s golden skin available to him, Dean bent and began kissing his way across Sam’s broad chest. He paused at a nipple and looked up at Sam through his lashes as he bit down. Sam let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan as the lust from the action mixed with the joy of the situation. All the laughter leaked out as Dean continued to nibble and suck at the nub, until Sam arched up and groaned.

Sam captured Dean’s mouth in another kiss and traced his hand down Dean’s spine, letting one of his long fingers dip beneath his brother’s waistband. He pressed between Dean’s cheeks and teased at his hole. Dean moaned, eyes rolling back as he pushed back into his brother’s teasing digit.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean moaned out. Sam reached around behind Dean and opened the glove box, searching for the lube they kept there. When his hands found the bottle, he snatched it up and flipped open the cap. Dean reached between them to unbutton and open his jeans. 

“Fucking hell, Dean,” Sam groaned out when he saw his brother wasn’t wearing underwear. He poured lube onto his fingers and pressed at Dean’s entrance. Dean nodded then leaned forward for another kiss.

Sam traced Dean’s pucker as they kissed, and then gently pushed his long finger in up to the knuckle. He waited to feel Dean’s body relax before pushing the rest of the way in. He had barely gotten his first finger in and Dean was already pushing back into it. “More, Sammy. More.” Sam readily complied, adding a second digit and fucking them in and out of his brother’s tight hole. Sam reached between them and wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock. Dean moaned, overwhelmed by the dual sensation of his brother’s big hand on his dick and his long fingers teasing over his prostate. 

Sam continued to stroke Dean’s cock as he worked him open. He soon added a third and Dean greedily pushed back into them. Dean was nearly lost to sensation; the only thought that remained in his head was how badly he needed his brother naked so he could ride him. 

Dean fumbled with Sam’s belt and fly, but eventually did manage to get to his brother’s dick. He wrapped a hand around it and stroked it until Sam was moaning and pumping into Dean’s hand. Dean lifted out of Sam’s lap long enough for them both to completely remove their pants. Sam settled back on the seat, scooting forward just a bit. Dean straddled Sam again, this time reaching behind him and grasping his brother’s cock. He watched Sam’s face as he stroked a few times, and then he lined Sam up with his stretched hole. Dean lowered himself until the head was buried inside him. He took a deep breath, willing himself to relax. This was a different angle and the stretch was unlike what he’d felt before.

Once his body adjusted, Dean wrapped a hand around the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him into a kiss as he lowered himself onto Sam’s cock inch by inch. The stretch and burn was intense and sweet and when Sam was fully buried in Dean’s tight heat, both brothers broke the kiss to gasp. They sat, foreheads pressed together, sharing their breath as they waited for Dean’s body to adjust.

Dean put his hands on Sam’s chest to balance himself and he began to move. Sam watched as Dean rode him, his skin flushed under the freckles, muscles rippling. It was fucking gorgeous and Sam could have watched that forever. 

Sam wrapped his hands around Dean’s hips, thumbs resting in the grooves of Dean’s hip bones; he began to thrust up to meet Dean. Dean moaned, head falling back, fingers gripping into Sam’s muscles. The Impala filled with the sounds of skin hitting skin and with the moans and curses of both Sam and Dean.

“Nnngh, Dean, can’t…Dean. God, you feel so good, I’m gonna come.”

“Go ahead, Sammy, come. Wanna feel it.” 

Sam moaned loud and long as he thrust up into his brother letting his orgasm tear through him. He shot into Dean, and the feeling of Sam’s release, hot and wet, pushed Dean over the edge. He bit into Sam’s shoulder as he came, shooting over their stomachs and chests.

Dean collapsed against Sam’s chest, his head landing in the crook of Sam’s shoulder. He panted into Sam’s neck and listened to Sam’s erratic breathing. His body went lax, as he allowed himself to enjoy this moment and to feel hope for the first time in over a year.

[Chapter 12](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/10125.html)


	12. Chapter 12

**Warnings** : Wincest, talk of blood drinking, major angst  
 **AN #1** : I have borrowed dialogue from 3.15 “No Rest for the Wicked.” Of course I can never resist twisting Show’s words for my own amusement.  


** Worth It – Chapter 12 **

The three weeks they’d had disappeared in a flurry of research. They had the name and now they could find the spell to summon or locate her. The boys went straight to their best resource, Bobby, and holed up there. Sam hated having to hide the new aspect of their relationship when all he wanted to do was spend every second they had touching and kissing, but he couldn’t argue with Dean when he refused to show anything beyond brotherly affection in front of the man who had been like a father to them for most of their lives.

Sam took advantage of Dean’s distraction to use every possible opportunity to dial Ruby’s number again. She had failed to answer. Every. Single. Time. The shaking in his hands had worsened and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from snapping at Dean and Bobby. His skin felt tight and itchy; he just wanted to crawl out of it. 

Dean had noticed the changes in Sam, and in true Dean Winchester fashion, he blamed himself, believing Sam was so upset about losing his older brother, soul mate and now lover that he wasn’t able to function. He let Sam think it went unseen, but quietly kept a watchful eye on his little brother.

* * * * *

As the weeks turned into days, and then hours, Sam went from twitchy to desperate. It wasn’t just the need for blood running under his skin; it was the need to be strong and ready enough to save Dean. He started looking for a way to summon Ruby since she either could not or would not answer her phone. Once he’d found it, he began pushing Dean to summon her. Dean predictably and stubbornly refused to call on the demon despite any reason Sam had, and Sam hadn’t been able to steal away enough time to do it alone.

Dean had taken to sleeping for no more than an hour or two at a time to avoid the increasingly disturbing and vivid nightmares. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to Sam, Dean’s nightmares followed him into his waking mind as the hellhounds and his own black-eyed image turned into hallucinations that taunted him at all hours. The eldest Winchester was wearing thin, but he tried to hide it from Sammy.

They were in the room at Bobby’s house that they had shared since they were kids. Dean was sitting cross-legged on the bed, back against the wall, clutching a cup of coffee and leaning over a dusty worn volume, but his eyes had gone unfocused as his brain churned out another lucid vision. It was the same hellhounds that had been chasing him every night. But now he was awake, opening his eyes didn’t make it stop. Sam’s presence didn’t make it stop. In fact, Sam’s beautiful face twisted in front of his eyes and he only felt worse, terror intensified by lack of any kind of relief for even a moment. Dean knew he was losing it. Fast.

Sam came into the room so quietly Dean didn’t notice him. He watched Dean’s unfocused gaze and the tension in his muscles, the quickening of his breath. The very same things Sam had seen night after night when Dean was being dragged into one of his nightmares. Sam wondered how long Dean had been hiding this new development from him, but decided not to call him on it.

“Dig up anything good?” Sam asked Dean.

Dean looked up from the book he hadn’t been reading and shook his head, “No,” he croaked out. He cleared his throat, “Nothing good.”

“Well, Bobby has. Finally.” 

“Yeah?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Sam said smiling, “A way to find Lilith.”

“Oh. With just uh,” Dean turned his bleary eyes to his watch, “Thirty hours to go.” Dean looked down, not able to have the positive reaction he knew Sam needed to see from him.

Sam sat down on the bed next to Dean. He closed the large book and took it from Dean’s lap, setting it down on the floor. “Hey, Dean,” Sam said, placing a large hand on the side of Dean’s neck, thumb stroking the strong, tense line of Dean’s jaw, “Look, we're cutting it close, I know. But we're gonna get this done.” Sam leaned in, resting his forehead against Dean’s, “I don't care what it takes, Dean. You're not gonna go to hell. I'm not gonna let you.” Dean’s eyes met Sam’s, fear and hope swirling in the emerald gaze. Sam turned his head and placed the gentlest kiss on his brother’s lips, “I swear,” Sam said earnestly, “Everything's gonna be okay.”

“Okay, Sammy,” and for just a second, Dean let himself believe that his brother held a secret tool that would keep him out of the pit. He pushed his hand into Sam’s hair and brought his brother’s mouth back down into a deeper kiss. Sam’s lips were sweet, and Dean was glad that no matter what was going on in their lives or even between them, he and Sam would always be the comfort for each other to get through the worst of anything.

Sam smiled into the kiss, and stood, drawing his brother up off the bed with him. “Come on, Dean. Let’s go see what Bobby’s got.” Dean nodded and let Sam pull him out the door and halfway down the hall before they let go of each other’s hands.

Bobby had a map open on the table and a wooden tripod dangling a pointed pendulum over the map. “So you need a name, that's the whole kit and caboodle. With the right name, right ritual, ain't nothing you can't suss out.”

“Like the town Lilith's in?” Sam asked.

“Kid, when I get done, we'll know the street.” Bobby started the pendulum swinging and began chanting in Latin. The boys watched as the pendulum swung over the map, and then stopped pointing at a town.

“New Harmony, Indiana,” Bobby said. Dean looked up from the map, frowning at Bobby who said, “And we have a winner.”

“Alright,” Sam said, knocking the pendulum from its place, “Let’s go.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. Just holster it up there, Tex,” Dean said, putting his hand up.

“What's the problem?” Sam asked. He was getting irritated, and given his recent short fuse, it took a lot of energy to not light into Dean before even hearing him out.

“What's the problem?” Dean spat out, “Come on, where do I begin? I mean, first of all, we don't even know if Lilith holds my deal. We're going off of Bela's intel? Now when that bitch breathes, the air comes out crooked. Okay. Second, even if we could get to Lilith, we have no way to gank her. And third, isn't this the same Lilith that wants your giant head on a pike? Should I continue?” Dean’s voice rose slightly throughout his tirade. He was scared; he did not want to go to hell. But he could not risk Sammy getting hurt, and Dean would burn in Hell for eternity before he’d let Sam do something that would get himself killed.

“Ain't you just bringing down the room,” Bobby said testily.

“Yeah, well, it's a gift,” Dean shot back.

“I'm sorry, so then what are we supposed to do, Dean?” Sam asked. He was about 15 seconds from completely losing his cool and he balled his hands into tight fists to keep them from shaking.

“Just 'cause I gotta die doesn't mean you have to, okay. Either we go in smart or we don't go in at all.”

“Okay, fine,” Sam said, “If that's the case I have the answer.”

“You do?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. A sure-fire way to confirm it's Lilith and a way to get us a bona fide demon-killing ginsu.”

“Damn it, Sam, no.” Dean could barely wait for Sam to finish his sentence before he was arguing. They had been over this at least a dozen times and he was not going to let his little brother summon Ruby and end up even further entangled with that demon bitch. Especially if Dean was not going to be around to help him disentangle. Dean turned from Sam’s glare and took a few steps away. 

“We're so past arguing,” Sam said with finality, “Dean, I am summoning Ruby.”

Dean spun back around to face his little brother, “The hell you are!” Dean shouted, “We have enough problems as it is.”

“Exactly,” replied Sam, voice tight as he stepped towards Dean, “And we've got no time and no choice either.”

“Come on man, she is the Miss Universe of lying skanks, okay,” Dean spat out, “She told you that she could save me, huh – lie. She seems to know everything about Lilith but forgot to mention, oh right – Lilith owns my soul!” Dean could just not believe that given all of Ruby’s lies, Sam still wanted to place the trust of saving Dean’s soul in her hands.

“Okay, fine,” Sam tried, “She's a liar. She's still got that knife.” Sam would try any argument he could to get Dean to agree to this. He _needed_ to see Ruby.

“Dean,” Bobby said, trying to break in as the tension between the boys escalated along with the volume of their voices.

Dean ignored Bobby, “For all we know, she works for Lilith.”

“Then give me another option, Dean. I mean, tell me what else,” Sam said, ability to be patient and hold back long gone.

“Sam's right,” Bobby agreed.

“NO! DAMN IT!” This time Dean’s shout was so abrupt and heated it knocked both Sam and Bobby back. Bobby’s eyebrows shot up and the men all just stood staring at each other for a few moments.

Dean took a deep breath, calming himself before continuing, “Just no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again.” This was met with wide eyes from the other two men. Sam could not believe that Dean was actually flat out refusing the one chance they had at saving his soul. Dean dropped his gaze for a second, he looked back up as he said, “You guys wanna save me, find something else.” 

Dean walked across the room to sit down at a table behind a stack of books. Sam watched his brother move, emotions warring. He was irritated with his brother’s stubborn need to protect Sammy at all costs, he was angry with Ruby for disappearing when he needed her so badly, but most of all he was scared of losing Dean who had become so many things to him.

Sam heard the rustling of Bobby putting on his coat as he heaved a sigh. “Where are you going, Bobby?”

“I guess to...” Bobby threw up his arms, “find something else.”

Sam sighed as he heard the front door close behind Bobby on his way out. He made his way over to Dean. Sam stood silently next to his brother until Dean shut the book he had in his hands, and then he knelt down next to Dean, looking up into his face.

Dean’s anger melted as he stared into Sammy’s hazel eyes. He had never wanted Sam in this position; hurting his brother was always the last thing Dean wanted. He brought his hand up to Sam’s face and Sam turned to place a kiss into Dean’s palm.

“I’m sorry, baby boy,” Dean whispered.

“I know you are, Dean. I know you never meant to hurt me; that everything you do is to protect me. But, Dean,” Sam sighed, “losing you is going to hurt. Knowing you’re in hell, being tortured in ways I can’t-” Sam cut himself off, unable to even allow his mind to go there. He swallowed and blinked back tears before continuing. “Dean, if there’s anything, _anything_ that even has the possibility of saving you, I have to try it. Can’t you understand that?” Sam’s brow creased as his eyes searched Dean’s.

Dean did understand that. He’d sold his own soul from that frame of mind; anything to save Sammy, anything to keep from having to find a way to live without his brother. “I get it, Sam. I do,” Dean paused, blowing out a breath as he looked down at the floor between them. “That’s exactly how we got here. I was willing to do anything to save you. And I did. And look where that got us.” Dean brought his watery green eyes back to meet Sam’s gaze.

“I can’t lose, you, Dean. I can’t,” Sam paused as his voice quivered, “I don’t even know how to _be_ if you’re not right here next to me, De. I…I, I just…I can’t-” Dean cut Sam off with a kiss. It was all comfort and the only peace Dean had to offer him. Sam allowed Dean to pour all that he had into the kiss and accepted it greedily before gently pulling back. “Dean, we need that knife. I need it. I need to save you.”

Dean drew in a breath. He knew why Sam thought he needed the knife, but he didn’t trust Ruby, not one inch, and when Sam’s plan failed, Sam wouldn’t end up saving Dean, he’d only succeed in bringing himself down with his older brother. “I’m sorry, Sammy, but no. She is not the answer.”

“She’s the only answer we’ve got Dean.”

“I won’t help you damn yourself along with me, Sam,” Dean said warningly.

“And I won’t sit by and watch you die, Dean,” Sam said, that same Winchester set in his jaw.

Dean pushed his chair back and stood. He looked at Sam, mouth opening then closing when he thought better of saying anything more. Silently, Dean turned and left.

* * * * *

Sam knelt on the basement floor finishing the symbols for the spell to summon Ruby. If she wasn’t going to answer his calls, she wasn’t leaving him any choice. Sam needed her. He needed her blood and her help to finish his training. He began the Latin verse, then lit a match and dropped it into the bowl in the center of the symbols to finish the summoning spell.

Sam stood and looked around the room. “You know phones work too,” Ruby’s voice came from behind him. He turned toward her glaring. “Hey, Sam. How's tricks?”

Sam’s glare deepened, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Around.”

“I have been calling you for weeks, Ruby. Weeks,” Sam bit out between clenched jaws.

“So, I missed a couple calls, what’s the big deal?”

Sam’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, “What’s the big deal?!” he shouted. If he didn’t need her, she’d already have been dead. “You know what the big deal is. I need your help to save Dean. You got me started training and then,” he lowered his voice again as he spit out the next part, “and then you got me started with the blood. And with just weeks to go you disappear!”

“Look, I’m sorry, Sam. I had things to take care of. I can’t just be at your beck and call 24/7.” Ruby stopped and looked away then back at Sam, “I’m here now. So. You called?”

“Did you know?” Sam asked.

“Um – gonna need a tiny bit more,” Ruby replied, full of her usual attitude.

Sam rolled his eyes, “About Dean's deal. That Lilith holds the contract.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And… what? You didn't think that was important?” Sam asked, voice tight.

“You weren't ready,” Ruby said plainly.

“For what?”

“If I told you, you two yahoos would have just charged after her half-cocked and Lilith would have peeled the meat from your pretty, pretty faces.”

“Well, we're ready now,” Sam said, “I want your knife.” He took a step forward, “And I need your blood. We’re gonna finish training. Now.”

Ruby looked him up and down, and began walking a slow circle around him as she spoke, “You're right about one thing. You are ready. And now's the time, too. Lilith's guard's down.”

“Is that so?”

“She's on shore-leave. A little R&R.”

“The hell's that mean?” Sam asked.

“Trust me, you don't wanna know,” Ruby answered, still circling Sam, “You didn't lose those hex bags I gave you?”

“We've got 'em.”

“Good. Then she won't sense that you're coming,” Ruby said from behind Sam.

Sam turned around, “So you'll give us the knife?”

“No.”

“But you just said–”

“I know how to save your brother, Sam,” Ruby said cutting him off.

Sam knew he needed the demon to save his brother, but even with that motivation he was finding it hard to tolerate her games, “No, you don't! You told Dean you couldn't! You've been lying to me all along, so just give me what I need!”

“You're not the one I've been lying to.”

“Oh, so you can save him?”

“No,” she answered, “But you can. Lilith is scared of you.”

Sam huffed, “Right... she's scared of me.”

Ruby ignored the sarcasm, “If you wanted, you could wipe her off the map without moving a muscle.”

“I don't believe you,” Sam said, though part of him really hoped that was true.

“It's the truth.”

“And you decided to tell me this just now?”

“Um... demon. Manipulative's kinda in the job description. Fact is, is that you would have never considered it. Not until you were –”

“Desperate enough?” Sam quipped.

They looked at each other for a moment before Ruby shrugged and Sam looked away. “You don't like being different,” Ruby said, “You hate the way Dean looks at you sometimes. Like you're some kind of sideshow freak. But suck it up because we've got a lot of ground to cover, and we've gotta do it fast. But we can do it. We’ve already done all the general training for your powers; just let me show you how to direct them at a demon as powerful Lilith and we’ll take her down.”

Sam’s jaw clenched and he looked down at the floor. He was all too aware of how little time they had, and of how much time she had wasted by not answering his calls. 

Ruby heaved a sigh, “Look. Call me a bitch, hate me all you want, but I have never lied to you, Sam. Not ever.” She paused and Sam looked back up at her, “And I'm telling you. You... can save your brother, and I can show you how.”

“So that's you, huh? Our slutty little Yoda.” Both Sam’s and Ruby’s heads turned at the sound of Dean’s voice.

“Dean,” Ruby said, unable to hide the contempt in her tone. “Charming as ever.”

Dean took a few steps toward the demon and his brother, “Aw, I knew you'd show up. Because I knew Sam wouldn't listen.” Sam looked up at Dean, then away just as quickly. He was irritated that Dean knew him that well, but more than that worried about how much of the conversation his brother had heard before making his entrance. “But you're not gonna teach him anything, you understand me?” Dean said, directing fury at Ruby, “Over my dead body.”

“Oh. Well, you're right about that,” she replied with a smirk.

“What you are gonna do is give me that knife. And then you can just go crawl back into whatever slop you came from and never bother me or my brother again. Are we clear?”

“Your brother is carrying a bomb inside of him and we'd be stupid not to use it.”

Sam was afraid of how much Ruby was about to reveal, “Dean, look, just hold on for one–”

“Sam!” Dean yelled angrily, “Don't. Come on man, what, are you blind? Can't you see that this is a trick?”

“That's not true,” Ruby broke in.

“She wants you to give into this whole demonic psychic whatever, okay. I mean hell, she probably wants you to become her little Anti-Christ Super Star.” Sam cringed at just how close to the truth Dean came with that statement. Ruby had wanted Sam to give in to his powers, and Sam had done so willingly, would do it all again if it meant he’d never have to know the pain of living without Dean.

“I _want_ Lilith dead. That's all,” Ruby seethed from between clenched teeth.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“I've told you why!”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Dean mocked, “Because you were human once and you liked kittens and long walks on the beach.”

“You know, I am so sick of proving myself to you. You wanna save yourself, this is how. You dumb, spineless dick,” Ruby spat out.

Dean looked at her, and then began to turn silently to go. Sam knew what was coming, but had no time to warn Ruby or do anything to stop it before Dean spun back around, landing a solid punch to Ruby’s face. Ruby took a step back, swiping the blood from her lip before lighting into Dean with first her left then her right fist.

“Ruby, hey!” Sam yelled, trying to at least slow her down before she killed Dean. Ruby spun on Sam, hitting him in the back, and then kneeing him in the stomach. Sam flew back with the force of it. Without the blood or training for weeks he didn’t have the strength to stop her. He watched, bleeding on the floor as Ruby continued to beat his brother.

Sam looked on in horror as Ruby kicked Dean repeatedly, rolling him over and over again. Every time Dean tried to get up, he was met with another kick to the gut or side. When they’d crossed the room, Dean tried getting up one more time, and Ruby took hold of him, bringing him face to face before head butting him. Dean fell back on his ass again, but he only smiled as he slowly made it to his feet.

“The hell are you grinning at?” Ruby asked him.

“Missing something?” Dean replied, still grinning through bloody teeth. She frowned and Dean pulled her knife up and held it in front of his battered face. The glare she sent him could have melted steel.

“I'll kill you, you son of a bitch,” Ruby hissed. She lunged toward him, but was stopped in midair as if hitting a wall. Dean just smiled again, looking up at the ceiling over her head. Ruby followed his gaze to see the devil’s trap she’d missed earlier.

“Like I said...” Dean said, tucking the knife away, “I knew you'd come.” Dean walked away from the angry demon.

Ruby watched him walk, then when she saw he was headed for the stairs she shouted, “Wait! You're just gonna leave me here?”

Dean stopped; he wasn’t paying any attention to Ruby. He looked to his brother, “Let's go, Sam.”

Sam was torn, completely put on the spot. He finally had Ruby here in front of him, ready to finish the training he needed to save Dean, her veins pumping the very blood he needed for the strength to do it. But now Dean had her knife, the only legitimate excuse Sam had been able to give Dean to justify further contact with a demon. Dean had planned this out just to give Sam what he had asked for, and he couldn’t let Dean leave alone. There would be no way to explain without revealing the truth of his training with Ruby. He looked at Ruby, then the trap. She wouldn’t be able to leave. He quickly decided to leave with his brother, he’d be able to come and free Ruby later once Dean was distracted. 

Sam followed Dean up the stairs as Ruby shouted from her invisible cage. “Oh, oh you – so you're just too stupid to live, is that it? Then fine! You deserve hell! I wish I could be there, Dean. I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones! I WISH I COULD BE THERE TO HEAR YOU SCREAM!!”

Dean managed to get in one last sarcastic quip as they climbed the stairs, “And I wish you'd shut your pie hole, but we don't always get what we want.”

The boys climbed the stairs in silence. In fact they kept going through the first floor of the house and up the stairs to the bedroom without saying a word. Dean walked through the door and Sam followed him, quietly closing the door behind them.

“We're just gonna let Ruby rot down there?” Sam asked, breaking the silence.

“That's the idea.”

“Dean, what if, uh...” Sam paused, treading cautiously, “What if Ruby's right? What if I can take out Lilith?” Dean looked up at Sam, face a mix of anger and doubt. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“What, are you gonna give her the Carrie-stare and Lilith goes "poof"?” Dean asked.

Sam had to walk a very narrow line in this, he couldn’t let Dean know the real reason he needed Ruby, but he wanted to convince his brother she could help them in some way. “I don't know what Ruby meant. You know…maybe we should just go ask her.”

“Sam, you wanted the knife – I got you the knife,” Dean said wearily. He turned away from Sam to shove things into his duffel bag. 

Sam walked up behind Dean, putting one hand on his brother’s bicep and the other on his shoulder. “Dean, just listen to me for a second. Last time Lilith snapped her fingers and put thirty demons on our ass, and all we got's one little knife? I mean, like you said, we go in smart or we don't go in at all.”

“Well, this ain't smart,” Dean said, shaking himself free of Sam’s hold.

“We got one shot at this, Dean. Just one. So if there's a sure-fire way then maybe we should just talk about it.”

Dean turned to look at his brother and stepped toward him as he said, “Sam. We are not gonna make the same mistake all over again.”

“You said that but what does it even mean?” Sam asked.

Dean sat down on the edge of one of the beds. “Don't you see a pattern here? Dad's deal, my deal, now this? I mean every time one of us is – is – is up the creek the other is begging to sell their soul. That's all this is, man. Ruby's just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it's paved with and you know where it's going.” Dean looked down at his hands in his lap.

Sam crossed the room, “Dean,” he said gently as he sat down next to his brother, “What do you think is gonna happen? This is me, I can handle it.” Sam needed so desperately to convince Dean it would be ok if he worked with Ruby because he’d already crossed that line. If Dean couldn’t accept Sam’s new skill set, then Sam still faced losing him even if Dean didn’t end up in hell.

Dean took a shaky breath and looked at the wall away from Sam. Sam put a hand over his brother’s, “And if it'll save you...”

Dean sniffed, “Why even risk it?” he asked, looking into Sam’s eyes for the answer.

Sam ducked his head, before turning back to Dean with the answer they both already knew was coming, “Because you're my brother. Because you did the same thing for me.”

Dean huffed and shook his head, “I know... and look how that turned out.” Sam looked away again not able to argue with or acknowledge the truth in that statement.

Dean put a hand on Sam’s neck and Sam met his gaze again, “All I'm saying…” Dean stopped for a moment to steady his shaking voice and quell the tears building in his eyes, he stroked Sam’s cheek as he said, “Sammy, all I'm saying is that you're my weak spot.” Sam closed his eyes against the pain he felt with that admission, but looked back into watery emerald eyes as Dean continued, “You are, baby boy. And I'm yours.”

Sam choked back a sob, “You don't mean that. We're…” Sam searched for a word big enough to cover everything they were to each other, but could only come up with, “we're family.”

Dean’s hand moved around to the back of Sam’s neck as he leaned their foreheads together. “I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it too. I mean, what we'll do for each other, you know, how far we'll go? They're using it against us.”

“So what? We just stop looking out for each other?”

“No, we stop being martyrs, Sammy. We – we – we stop spreading it for these demons. We take Ruby’s knife, and we go after Lilith our way. The way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, then, uh... then we go down swinging.”

Sam pulled back and swiped a fist over his eyes. “No, Dean.” Sam broke into sobs, the weight of the last year finally crashing over him in a wave. They were so close to the end of their time to fight this, and now Sam could already feel that Dean had given up. He was talking about fighting, but Sam knew his brother, knew that Dean was just trying to get Sam through this without doing anything that could end in welching on his deal.

Sam stood from the bed, blind panic and crushing pain coming to a crescendo in his head, “I’m not gonna let you go to hell!” he yelled through his tears.

“Yes you are!” Dean yelled grabbing onto Sam’s shirt and shaking him once. Dean looked deep into Sam’s eyes and then said calmly, quietly, “Yes, you are.”

Sam just stood staring into his brother’s eyes, trying to remember how to breathe.

“I'm sorry,” Dean said, “I mean this is all my fault, I know that. But what you're doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you.”

Sam looked away again, tears running down his cheeks, “Then, what am I supposed to do?” he asked, hating that it sounded like he was 10 years old again, asking his big brother for the answers Dean always seemed to have.

Dean took a step closer bringing their bodies into contact. He brought his hands up and gently wiped the tears from Sam’s face, and then he cupped his little brother’s face and kissed each tear-stained cheek. “Keep fighting,” he whispered, “Take care of my wheels.” Dean forced a tiny smile, “Sam, remember what Dad taught you... okay?” Sam nodded, feeling a fresh set of tears stinging at his eyes. “And remember what I taught you.”

The tears spilled down his cheeks again, and Dean leaned in to kiss them away. “I love you, Sammy. Always have. I need to know you are gonna keep fighting, you’re gonna have a life after–”

Sam cut Dean off with a kiss full of all the intensity he felt. He knew what the rest of the sentence was going to be and he just absolutely could not bear to hear those words coming from the beautiful mouth of the person he loved more than he would ever find a way to express.

[Chapter 13](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/10282.html)


	13. Chapter 13

**Warnings** : Wincest, blood drinking, fingering, barebacking, oral,   
**AN #1** : I have borrowed dialogue from 3.15 “No Rest for the Wicked.” Of course I can never resist twisting Show’s words for my own amusement.  


** Worth It – Chapter 13 **

Dean felt Sam’s need through the kiss, through every line of tension in every muscle. He wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled him in tight. 

Sam’s hands wrapped around Dean’s head trying to pull him in even closer as his tongue begged entrance to Dean’s mouth. Dean’s full lips parted willingly, allowing Sam to explore and taste every inch of him.

Tears continued to stream down Sam’s cheeks, and Dean felt them against his skin as he kissed his little brother with all the tenderness and love and strength he could dig from the depth of the very soul he’d bartered away.

Sam choked out a sound somewhere between a sob and a moan, and it shattered Dean. They both knew what this was, good bye, one last chance to hold each other, kiss each other, taste each other. Despite all Sam’s plans, he still feared he would fail to save Dean; and Dean had always believed he would only have this last year with his brother, so they took from each other what they could: the comfort of each other’s bodies, a moment to get lost in this and forget what was about to happen.

Sam wanted everything at once, his hands raced over his brother’s body as his mouth devoured Dean’s full lips. He needed to memorize every freckled inch of Dean, savor the taste of the salt of his skin, the velvet of his mouth, the tang of his come. He needed to feel Dean everywhere on his own body, those calloused hands skimming over his skin, the bowed legs wrapped around his waist, full lips stretched around his cock, Dean’s beautiful thick cock stretching him open. Sam’s need pulsed through his veins insistently and more powerfully than he’d ever believed possible. 

Dean felt the urgency in Sam’s touch and kiss. He knew without asking what Sam was trying to do and he intended to give his brother everything he could. If they were only going to have this one last night, he would give Sam enough memories and marks to last. And take as many as he could for himself into the pit to get him through whatever Lilith had planned for him.

Dean pushed his hands into Sam’s hair and fisted them, tugging on the thick chestnut locks. He nipped at Sam’s lips and felt his brother buck his hips into him. He grinned into the kiss. Sam felt Dean’s smile against his lips and he couldn’t help but lose himself in a smile of his own. He wasn’t sure what the morning would bring, but right now he had his beautiful brother pressed against him.

Sam wrapped his hands around Dean’s hips and pulled him flush against his own hardening cock. Dean moaned and rolled his hips. Sam growled and lifted Dean up, tossing him onto the bed. Ordinarily Dean would have objected to being manhandled that way, but this was Sammy, and he suddenly found it inexplicably hot that Sam could and would throw him around.

Dean leaned up on his elbows and watched as Sam stripped off his shirts and then reached for his belt. Sam watched as Dean’s eyes followed his hands slowly unbuckling the belt and pulling it from the loops. He tossed it away and then began working on the buttons of his fly. Dean unconsciously licked those damn full lips as Sam’s cock sprung free from his jeans and both brothers moaned.

Dean sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for his brother’s waist. He ran his thumbs up and down the grooves of Sam’s hipbones, and looked up at his brother’s lust-blown hazel eyes. Dean kept their gazes locked as he took hold of Sam’s cock positioning it just in front of his mouth as he licked his lips. Sam tracked the motion of Dean’s tongue over that gorgeous mouth and groaned. Dean smiled for just a second before drawing Sam into the wet heat of his mouth.

Sam’s head fell back and he whimpered as Dean’s tongue laved his slit then wrapped around the head and rubbed down his shaft. He opened his eyes to watch his brother’s sinful lips stretch around his dick as Dean sucked and licked and then relaxed his throat to take Sam down to the hilt.

“Fuck, Dean.”

“Mmm” Dean moaned around Sam’s cock, and then dove back down swallowing around the head.

“God!” Sam jumped. “Dean, fuck, feels too good. ‘M gonna come.”

Dean gripped Sam tight around the base of his cock to short circuit his impending orgasm and then pulled off, a string of precome and spit still connecting his lips to Sam’s cockhead. “Not yet, Sammy. We’re just getting started,” Dean said with a filthy wink.

“Threat or promise?” Sam asked, leaning down to lick Dean’s puffy, red, slick lips.

Dean wrapped his hand around the back of Sam’s neck pulling him back into a kiss. “Promise. Always a promise to you, Baby Boy.”

Sam placed a knee on each side of Dean’s hips and climbed into his lap as he leaned down to kiss his brother deeply. Dean’s nails scratched down Sam’s back and he shivered as the sensation traveled down his spine. Dean pulled away from Sam’s lips and began trailing kisses down his long tanned neck. He reached the joint of neck and shoulder and bit into the flesh, letting his teeth sink deep enough to leave marks.

Sam moaned and grasped at his brother’s head. “More, please, De. More.” Dean understood what Sam was asking for, knew his brother wanted to look in the mirror for days and see the evidence that Dean had been there, feel the bruises as they slowly healed and remember how it had felt when Dean put them there. Dean licked along the front of Sam’s throat, bringing his teeth to the other side before biting into the taut muscle again. Sam moaned again and tilted his head to allow his brother continued access as he alternated suction and bites, thoroughly marking Sam’s entire long neck. 

Each bite had Sam’s hips bucking and another pulse of precome leaking from his painfully hard cock. When Sam could take no more of the sweet torture, he stood from Dean’s lap, pulling Dean up with him. Sam tucked his fingers into the collar of Dean’s t-shirt, and grasped it tight in his large hands. He looked into his brother’s face as he quickly pulled, tearing Dean’s shirt off of him. Sam knew Dean would later deny that he liked it, but he saw how his brother’s pupils dilated with the action.

Sam bent and began sucking and biting at the freckled skin of Dean’s neck as he undid the button and zipper on his brother’s jeans and pushed them and his boxer briefs down Dean’s legs. Sam’s big hand wrapped around Dean’s leaking cock and Dean panted, thrusting into his brother’s fist. Sam snuck his other hand around Dean’s back and teased into his brother’s crack. His finger was dry and he would never hurt Dean by pushing into him like that, but the tease of Sam’s long finger pressing against his hole was enough to make Dean swear and pulse out a generous bit of precome into Sam’s hand.

“Need you, Sammy. In me, now. Please,” Dean begged between ragged breaths.

“Uh-uh,” Sam groaned, “No, Dean. Not this time. I – I just, please Dean,” Sam met Dean’s eyes and Dean saw wet in the hazel depths. He understood immediately, if it was the last chance they had, Sam wanted the sense memory of Dean’s cock stretching Sam open to stay with him. Dean may have wanted the same, but he had never figured out how to deny his Sammy.

“Of course, baby boy. Whatever you want, whatever you need. Always give you everything.” Sam captured Dean’s lips in another kiss, which Dean only pulled away from so that he could get his boots off and step out of his pants.

Sam sat down on the bed and watched as Dean bent to finish stripping. The light caught on a scar over Dean’s ribcage and Sam remembered Dean acquiring that scar by stepping between a young inexperienced Sammy and a werewolf. He remembered fearing it had been more than a scratch and sitting up all night with Dean to make sure he was still all human, still all Dean. His eyes traveled over his brother’s skin taking in every scar, every freckle, the landscape that had always been so familiar to him. 

Sam leaned forward to trace his fingers over first the scar on Dean’s ribcage, skipping to connect freckles, and then tracing another scar. He was mapping Dean’s skin, memorizing every inch and suddenly his need shifted. Sam needed more than sex with Dean, he needed to soak in every single thing about his brother, lock it all in his mind and heart: the scars, the freckles, the bow of his legs, the way Dean’s hands would curl in Sam’s hair, the breathless sounds of Dean’s moans and curses, the whimpers he would always deny. The taste of his skin, his mouth, his cock leaking precome and the gentle shift in flavor when he came hard and hot into Sam’s mouth. The way Dean’s fingers felt opening him, how his hole stretched around Dean’s gorgeous thick cock. Sam needed to absorb every detail of Dean, in case…

Dean watched as Sam traced the pale lines of his scars and saw how his brother’s attitude shifted. He bent to kiss Sam, gently leaning him back on the bed. “I’m right here, Sammy. Right here with you,” he whispered against Sam’s lips.

Sam kissed Dean back, running his fingers over the short hairs on the back of Dean’s head, clasping his hands behind Dean’s head and pressing his lips impossibly closer. Sam’s large hands roamed down the muscled contours of Dean’s back and Dean arched down into Sam’s body beneath him.

Dean reached over to the bedside table for the lube, and then Sam felt a slick fingertip circling his entrance. He moaned at the teasing sensation, both loving it and craving more. He began unconsciously pushing back into Dean’s finger. Dean pressed his finger gently forward and Sam gasped as the calloused tip breached the first ring of muscle.

Dean leaned forward to pull another kiss from his brother’s mouth as he continued to push his finger deeper into Sam. Sam kissed Dean both sweetly and greedily, his emotions warring within. He didn’t know whether to follow the urge for a desperate bruising fuck he would be able to feel long after…or if he should absorb every moment of what could be his last chance to make love to Dean.

Sam felt Dean’s finger fucking in and out and jumped as Dean teased over his prostate. He looked into his brother’s eyes to find him grinning, crinkles at the corners of his green eyes. 

“Jerk,” Sam said automatically.

“Bitch,” Dean replied with a wink.

And it was that, the tiniest bit of normalcy in their banter that allowed Sam to let go of everything else and focus only on this moment, on just feeling instead of analyzing. He smiled at Dean and pulled him back down to nip at his brother’s full lips. Dean smiled back before ducking his head and kissing Sam’s neck. He licked and sucked at the marks he’d made earlier as he added a second finger to work his brother open.

Sam moaned again and rocked his hips back into Dean’s thick fingers. He loved the way Dean worked him open, was always so careful with him, no matter how badly Dean wanted to fuck him. Sam loved that Dean would never hurt him, but he wanted something different this time. 

After only a minute of Dean’s two fingers fucking and twisting and scissoring inside him Sam said, “That’s good, De. ‘M ready.” 

Dean frowned down at his little brother, Sam was never open enough with 2 fingers, “Sammy, let me get at least one more –”

“Please, Dean,” Sam pleaded. “Please, I need…Just this once, Dean, please?”

Dean sighed; he could never deny Sam’s pleading or those damn puppy eyes, especially not now. But, Dean was not a small guy and he knew this was going to hurt Sam, and hurting Sammy was not something Dean would ever be okay with. He opened his mouth to say that, but looked into Sam’s teary hazel eyes and couldn’t tell him no. “Okay, Sammy. You’re sure?” Sam nodded.

Dean sat between Sam’s spread thighs and slicked his cock with what Sam judged to be about twice as much lube as necessary. He raised an eyebrow at Dean who shot him his “shut up” look. Dean balanced himself on his arms over Sam, cock positioned against his hole. “Ok, this is gonna hurt. Ready, baby boy?”

Sam leaned up and kissed Dean, pulling back to look into his lust blown emerald eyes, “Yes. _Please_.”

Dean slowly pushed the head of his cock into Sam. He felt Sam suck in a breath at the stretch and stopped. “You ok, Sammy?”

Sam nodded quickly. It was so much more than he thought it would be, but he didn’t care, he needed this stretch and burn, needed to really _feel_ this. He nudged his brother to signal him to continue.

Dean placed a kiss to Sam’s forehead. Sam watched the look of concentration on Dean’s face as he continued to slowly push his cock into Sam’s tight channel. Sam forced himself to breathe deeply and tried to relax his muscles as much as he possibly could. It didn’t seem to matter, the burn was still there. He knew what he wanted now, and was fairly certain what Dean’s response would be.

Before he could think better of it, and without giving Dean a chance to argue, Sam took a deep breath, hooked his ankles together behind Dean’s back, planted his hands on Dean’s ass and thrust his hips up forcing Dean’s cock all the way into him in one searing motion.

Sam cried out, it hurt, but it was exactly what he’d wanted, what he’d needed. To be fully stretched out on his brother’s thick cock. 

Dean shouted a curse, finding himself suddenly fully sheathed and squeezed by Sam’s tight heat. “Damn it, Sammy. What are you doing?” he panted. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“ ‘Sokay Dean,” Sam said, breaths ragged and quick, “I’m fine. ‘M good.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, but Sam looked between them and when Dean saw that Sam was still fully hard, he couldn’t argue. Sam smiled and pulled his brother into another kiss.

Sam loosened the grip of his legs around Dean’s waist and urged his brother to start moving with a gentle movement of his own hips. Dean slowly withdrew slightly, just rocking in and out of Sam’s impossibly tight hole. He moaned at the way Sam’s not yet relaxed muscles gripped him and Sam gasped at the intensity of the sensation.

Dean slowly increased his movements as Sam’s body relaxed, and soon the two were pulled into the familiar rhythm of their joined bodies. Sam looked up to watch Dean’s face, eyes gently closed, mouth slightly open, a pink flush under his freckles. Dean’s eyes opened and locked on Sam’s. 

The Winchester brothers had always been able to communicate with each other in minimal words. Since childhood it seemed one could read almost an entire conversation in a single look from the other. It was a skill that had only evolved and been enhanced when they began the romantic aspect of their relationship. So, without having to lay it out verbally, Dean told Sam every emotion he had for his brother, lover, soul mate. How sorry he was, how much he wished he could stay with Sam, and above all how much he loved Sam so deeply there were no words.

Sam heard it all loud and clear and returned all of his own messages. How he would miss Dean more than a part of his own body, that he understood Dean even if he could never forgive the decision, and that he loved Dean with everything in him so much he could never find a way to say it that felt big enough. 

Dean leaned down to kiss Sam once more before he adjusted the angle of his thrusts until Sam’s eyes rolled back and he swore. Sam suddenly wanted his brother just as lost in these sensations as he was. He let his legs fall to Dean’s sides and he ran his hands down Dean’s back, fingers coming to rest at the dip between his brother’s firm ass cheeks.

The angle was awkward and a little uncomfortable, but Sam managed to slip a finger into his brother. Dean threw his head back and swore. It was overwhelming, almost too much, being in Sammy and having Sam in him at the same time.

“Nnng, God, Sammy. Gonna come, baby boy. Fuck, feels so good.” Dean’s thrusts came faster, but he managed to gather his wits enough to wrap a hand around Sam’s cock, pumping in time to the thrusts into Sam’s sweet spot.

Sam swore and called Dean’s name as he came, back arching completely off the bed. Dean was completely undone by the feeling of his brother tightening around his cock and shooting between them. He slammed into Sam’s body one more time, curses mingling with his brother’s name as he came so hard his vision whited out just before he collapsed on Sam.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and squeezed him tight against his chest and kissed the side of his head. Dean mumbled a response before sliding off Sam and settling onto the mattress next to his brother. Sam watched as Dean slipped into sleep, his determination rebuilding.

He would save Dean, he’d go downstairs, drink from Ruby and get the information he needed to kill Lilith and keep his brother out of the pit. He’d worked too hard and given too much to give up at this point.

Sam carefully slid out of the bed and grabbed his clothes from the floor. Once outside the door he quietly pulled them on and headed for the basement. His heart pounded and he could practically taste the demon blood on his tongue, feel its power thrum through his veins. 

He reached the bottom of the stairs before he realized how quiet it was. He looked to the corner of the basement under the devil’s trap and found it empty. “No,” he said, shaking his head, “No!” Sam spun around, but Ruby was gone. He searched the room but couldn’t find any indication of where she’d gone or even how she got out.

He shoved his shaking hands through his hair, gripping at the back of his head. “Dammit!” What now? How could he save Dean without Ruby’s blood? He fell to his knees as his stomach knotted and flipped inside him. He couldn’t lose Dean. He simply could not. The room tilted around him and he realized his breathing was out of control. He ducked his head to the floor and fought for the ability to slow his breathing and calm himself.

The knife. Dean had gotten them the knife. It didn’t seem as sure a plan as using his powers, but it could work. If he and Dean worked together, and Sam reserved the last bit of strength he had, it could be enough. It would have to be. Dean wasn’t going to hell, Sam had promised him.

* * * * *

Bobby had insisted on helping as well. Between the three of them, they worked out a plan and they’d made it past Lilith’s guard-demons and into the house she was “vacationing” in. Dean was able to see her demon form possessing the little blonde girl in the house, and they had made their way to her. But at the last minute, Dean realized the demon was gone and had stopped Sam from stabbing the innocent girl.

Ruby turned up, though she was offering more insults than assistance. Sam had been so relieved to see her. His mood brightened at the thought that he might be able to drink from her and possibly get just a little more strength. But he hadn’t been able to get a moment with her away from Dean and he just couldn’t bring himself to drink in front of his brother.

They managed to get the family living in the house safely into the basement and as the door closed behind them, the grandfather clock in the hall began to chime midnight.

Sam’s head spun around to meet his brother’s eyes. Tears started pouring from his slanted hazel eyes, and Dean just nodded slightly to him, his jaw set stoically. 

“I'm sorry, Dean,” Ruby said, “I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy.”

Sam and Dean’s eyes met again for a second before Dean’s attention was pulled to the right.

“Hellhound,” Dean said bleakly.

“Where,” asked Sam.

“There,” Dean said indicating with his eyes.

The three of them ran down the hall, slamming the double doors to the study shut behind them. Dean grabbed the pouch of goofer dust and made a line across the doors, then ran across the room to put one down in front of the window. 

“Give me the knife,” Ruby said to Sam, holding out her hand, “maybe I can fight it off.”

“What?” Sam asked, confusion all over his face.

“Come on! That dust won't last forever.”

Dean turned from the window and looked at Ruby as Sam started to hand the knife over. “Wait!” he shouted.

“You wanna die?” Ruby asked.

“Sam, that's not Ruby. It's not Ruby!” Dean said. 

Sam raised the knife to stab the demon, but suddenly found himself flung back against the wall. He struggled against it, first with his muscles, and when his physical strength failed him, he tried to tap his powers. But he was too weak, Ruby had left him without for too long and no matter how he tried, there was just nothing there. He watched helplessly as Dean was pinned down over the table by the same unseen force.

“How long you been in her?” Dean asked. It was the same demon face he’d seen in the little girl; Lilith had taken over the body Ruby had been using. They both watched as the body Ruby had been in changed, facial expression softened and posture altered. “Not long.” She answered, “But I like it. It's all grown up and pretty.” When she looked up at Dean again, her eyes turned white.

“And where's Ruby?” Sam asked.

“She was a very bad girl, so I sent her far, far away.”

“You know, I should have seen it before... but you all look alike to me,” Dean said as he strained against her hold.

Lilith ignored Dean’s jab and walked toward Sam. “Hello, Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long time.”

“Right, so you have me. Let my brother go,” Sam tried.

Lilith clicked her tongue, “Silly goose. You wanna bargain, you have to have something that I want. You don't.”

“So, is this your big plan, huh?” Dean asked, “Drag me to hell. Kill Sam. And then what? Become queen bitch?”

“I don't have to answer to puppy chow.” She watched Dean as she walked to the doors, flicking her glance to Sam and then back to Dean as she threw the doors open, “Sic 'im, boy!” she shouted.

Sam’s eyes went wide and he struggled against Lilith’s hold again, but still found no strength to break free. He looked up to see Dean’s jeans being torn open as the hell hound pulled him from the table. 

This could not be happening. 

No, this wasn’t it. Sam had worked for months, had turned himself into a monster to be able to fight these evil things. To be able to save his brother. Now, he found himself pinned against a wall and Dean’s shirt was being shredded by the invisible claws and teeth of a hellhound.

Dean screamed and tried to flip over onto his stomach, the hellhound just continued to tear his flesh and clothes. Blood was spraying everywhere. 

And Sam couldn’t move.

“STOP IT!” Sam shouted, tears streaming down his face, voice breaking with the unbearable emotional strain.

Lilith watched as Dean was ripped apart and Sam cried and begged and pleaded for his brother’s life. She smiled.

“No!” Sam cried again as the hellhound slashed through Dean’s back, flipping him over and drawing a deeper wound across his brother’s chest and belly.

Sam was sobbing now. He wanted to die. Dean was being literally pulled apart right in front of his eyes and there was nothing, _nothing_ he could do to stop it. “No,” he sobbed, “Stop it.”

He watched in anguished horror as Dean pulled his last ragged breaths in and then went still.

“STOP IT!” Sam begged, his voice cracking, lips wet with the tears rolling down his face, “NO! Deaaaannn!” A ragged sob stole the air from his lungs and he choked out one last word, “No.”

“Yes,” Lilith said, smiling. She held a hand out toward Sam, a blinding white light filled the room and Sam closed his eyes. If Dean was gone, she could go ahead and kill Sam, he didn’t want to face a second of life without his brother anyway. 

Suddenly the light disappeared and Sam opened his eyes to see a stunned Lilith staring at him. He lunged for the knife, if he wasn’t going to die, this bitch was. As soon as the demon saw what Sam was reaching for, she threw back the head on the body she was possessing and black smoke poured out, escaping with a scream through the air vent in the ceiling.

Sam watched the smoke leave the room, and then turned to see Dean’s lifeless body still lying bloody on the floor. The tears were back instantly as Sam knelt next to his brother. He pulled Dean’s body into his arms, burying his face in his brother’s neck and sobbed.

“No... no... Dean...” he rocked himself and Dean’s body on the floor as he cried so hard he was sure his own body would just shake apart. “Dean, Dean….I love you. Dean, please, no.”

He was still holding Dean’s body and crying when Bobby came in. 

Bobby was not a weak man by anyone’s judgment, but the sight before him brought him to his knees. The two boys he’d practically raised, one torn to pieces and lifeless, the other completely broken emotionally and clinging to his brother’s body. 

Bobby put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, but made no move to part him from Dean. He just knelt there with Sam and waited. With his head bent and eyes closed fighting his own tears, Bobby missed the flash of black across Sam’s hazel eyes.

[Chapter 14](http://deansdirtybb.livejournal.com/10648.html)


	14. Chapter 14

**Warnings** : Wincest, blood drinking, violence, torture  
 **AN #1** : I have really enjoyed writing this. This project has been my baby. It was my very first fic idea, and bringing it to life has been an amazing journey. Thanks to everyone who stuck with me through it and my apologies for the long gap of time between posts in the middle. I hope this ending meets your expectations and that you’ve enjoyed this story.  


** Worth It – Chapter 14 **

Bobby couldn’t be sure how much time had passed, but his knees throbbed from kneeling and his feet were numb. The sun was coming up and soon those people in the basement would want to know what was going on in their house. Having them come upstairs to a bloody body was just about the worst idea he could think of. 

“Sam,” he said gently, “I think we need to go, son.”

Sam’s only answer was a sharp intake of breath. Bobby was about to offer more careful prodding, but Sam silently stood, cradling his brother. Sam walked out the door carrying Dean and never even looked back at Bobby. Bobby heard the familiar creak of the Impala’s door and then the rumble of her engine. He looked out the door to see Sam driving away. 

Bobby made quick work of letting the family out and reassuring them that the trouble was over before hopping in his car. He dialed Sam’s number but it went straight to voice mail. “Balls,” Bobby swore under his breath. He knew how close those boys were, knew Sam must be devastated right now and he feared what he would do. After Sam’s death, Dean had gone right out and made a demon deal, there was no telling how Sam would react. All things considered, Bobby decided his best option was to head to his house, pool his resources and hunt that boy down.

* * * * *

Sam laid Dean down across the front seat of the Impala. It probably would have made more sense to put him in the back, but Sam just wasn’t ready to be that far away from the only thing he had left. He climbed into the driver’s seat, Dean’s seat, and a fresh wave of grief hit him. He reached down and arranged Dean so that his head was in Sam’s lap and none of the hellhound wounds were visible.

Sam stared down at Dean. His brother, his whole world, and Sam had failed to save him. It had been the only important thing in his life this last year and he failed. He had tapped into the dark powers Dean never wanted him to touch to save his older brother. He drank demon blood to save him. He aligned himself with Ruby to save him. 

Ruby. That bitch had lied to him. She hadn’t helped Sam save Dean. She’d led him down the path that had turned him into a monster Dean would never love anyway, and then, at the end, when Sam really needed her most, she fucking disappeared. Sam’s lip curled into a snarl as the anger from her betrayal burned through him. She harbored the secret he needed and then stopped sharing the blood necessary for the strength to save his brother.

Sam started the Impala and peeled away from the house. Ruby was going to pay.    
In blood.

* * * * *

Sam drove out of town until he found a dirt road, and slowed to a stop when he saw another small road crossing his path. Sam bent to place a kiss on Dean’s forehead before moving his head and getting out of the car. Sam went to the trunk. He dumped the fake ID’s from the cigar box and hastily threw together all the necessary ingredients grabbing one of his ID’s from the stack and placing it on top.

He stashed a knife in the back of his belt before striding to the center of the crossroads and burying the box.

“Come on, you bitch,” he growled when nothing happened.

“No need to get nasty, Sugar,” purred a curvy brunette. Sam spun around to glare at her.

“Sam Winchester. I can only imagine what _you’re_ here for,” she smirked at him, one hand on her hip.

Sam’s mouth tightened, his hands curling into fists at his side. The demon began to walk a slow circle around him. “Well, I don’t know what to tell ya, Sammy. We have very strict orders on this one. No deals for you,” she stopped just behind Sam, leaning in to whisper, “and your precious brother stays put.”

Sam gripped the knife in one hand, turning so quickly the demon couldn’t register what was happening until her head was wrapped in Sam’s long arm, bicep crushing against her throat. He brought the knife to her neck, “I don’t need your fucking deal,” Sam snarled, before slashing through her carotid.

The demon lurched in his grip, and then went limp. He bent, bringing her body to rest on the ground, he leaned down. There was a moment’s hesitation, but when the scene of his beloved brother being torn open flashed behind his eyes, Sam’s doubt evaporated, boiled away by pure, searing fury. Sam placed his lips over the demon’s wound and he drew in a deep pull. 

His mouth filled with the tang of copper and dull bitter twinge of sulfur. His nostrils flared as he felt it again. That power, the ice and heat coursing through his veins. His heart pounded in his own ears, and he drank deeper. It had been so long, and he needed this. This was how he’d avenge his brother. He’d take the very tricks Ruby had taught him and use them to kill that lying demon-bitch.

* * * * *

As Bobby pulled up to the house he half-expected to see the Impala already parked there, but really he wasn’t surprised to find an empty driveway and emptier house. He threw his jacket over the back of a chair on his way to grabbing a glass from the cabinet. He snatched the nearest bottle of whiskey and poured himself a double, thought better of it and added more.

He took a long gulp and as the very welcome burn made its way down his throat, the unmistakable rumble of the Impala approached. The engine cut off followed by the squeak of her doors and then Sam came crashing through the front door, carrying Dean. 

Sam didn’t say a word, barely even looked at Bobby as he made his way through the kitchen and then up to the room that had always been his and Dean’s. He laid Dean on the bed as images flooded his brain of the last time he laid his brother out on this bed. 

He crossed to the mirror hung over the dresser, turned his head and tugged the collar of his shirt down. He ran a long finger over the bruises and bite marks on his neck.

_ “Promise. Always a promise to you, Baby Boy.” _ Sam closed his eyes and saw Dean’s face, flushed and earnest, full of lust and love and all the things he only let show when they were buried in each other and lost to the world.

Sam opened his eyes to look down at the motionless form of his big brother. “Gonna make this right, Dean.” He wanted to kiss Dean again, but knew the feeling of those full lips cold against his would be more than he could bear right now. He cupped his large hand around Dean’s jaw, “I promise.” Sam left, closing the door behind him.

* * * * *

Sam went straight to the study, flicked on his laptop and grabbed books from the shelf.

“Sam, you ok?” Bobby asked warily from the doorway.

Sam raised his head slowly, it was the first time he’d really looked at Bobby since it happened. Sam was barely hanging on here, and he knew one look at the gruff but concerned face of the man he considered a father could send him spiraling. He needed to focus. Of course, there was the other concern he had. That Bobby would look into Sam’s eyes and see the dark rage and know something was off.

“No, Bobby. I’m about as far from ok as I can get. I just watched my brother get torn apart by hellhounds. Dragged to hell because he made a deal. To save me.”

“Sam–”

“No, Bobby! I was supposed to save him. I,” Sam’s voice broke and he took a deep breath before he continued, “I _promised_ him, Bobby.” Sam looked back to his laptop, and then began flipping through one of the books. Bobby took the not-so-subtle hint and left him to whatever it was he was researching.

* * * * *

The sun was setting and Sam still hadn’t moved from his place in the study. Bobby walked in carefully and cleared his throat.

“Sam, we…we really should take care of Dean. He’d want a hunter’s funeral.”

Sam’s head snapped up, hazel eyes narrowed to slits, lips pulled tight. “You want me to _burn_ him?”

“Sam, it’s what…it’s what Dean would want. You know it is,” Bobby replied quiet but steady.

Sam stood and walked around the desk. “I’m not burning my brother. I’m gonna get him back home, somehow. And when I do, he’s gonna need a body.” Sam turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand around his wrist.

“What are you planning, boy?” When Sam didn’t answer and only looked away Bobby continued, “Dean didn’t want you making some deal or messin’ with demons to save him before he died, he sure as hell wouldn’t want that now.”

Sam yanked his arm free. “I don’t care,” his voice came out a low dangerous whisper that matched the cold expression in his eyes. “I’m not leaving Dean in hell. So you can help me, or you can get the hell out of my way.”

Bobby drew in a breath and backed away from the door. Sam grabbed his notes and laptop and strode out the door and up the stairs. Minutes later, Bobby heard Sam’s heavy footsteps on the stairs followed by the slamming of the screen door, and then the Impala door. 

He’d wanted to argue with Sam, reason with him; stop him from doing something he would regret. Something that might take the second Winchester son Bobby had helped raise. But there had been something in Sam’s eyes that chilled Bobby. Somehow he knew he dared not stand in Sam’s way this time. He went to the window to watch Sam drive away once again, not sure if he’d ever see him again.

* * * * *

As far as Sam could tell, Ruby wasn’t gone. She may have been pushed from her vessel, but she hadn’t returned to hell. He’d followed signs and omens and it seemed she hadn’t made it that far at all. He pointed Baby toward Pontiac, Illinois.

When he crossed the border into Illinois, he had to face one fact he’d been avoiding. It had been nearly 2 days since the hellhounds had ripped Dean from him. As much as he hated to part with Dean, his body needed to be taken care of. 

Sam found a clearing just outside of town. He dug the grave automatically, letting his muscle memory carve the rectangle into the ground. He couldn’t stand to think about its purpose, or to let his mind wander to all the times he and Dean had dug graves together. Once he reached six feet, he climbed out and lowered the simple pine box he’d bought in town down into the hole. 

Sam trudged to the Impala where Dean lay lifeless on the backseat. He carried his brother to the hole and carefully laid him down. He started to climb back out, but stopped to bend and remove Dean’s leather jacket. He wanted something, just one thing of Dean to bring with him.

As he removed one arm and then the other from the jacket, his eye caught on the amulet.

_ “You always were everything to me, Dean. My whole world. I knew it for sure that day; the day I gave you this.” Sam finished, fingers caressing the amulet resting over Dean’s heart. _  
_ Dean’s fingers laced through Sam’s as he said, “I know, Sammy. That’s why I’ve never taken it off. Always wear it close to my heart.” _

Sam carefully pulled the amulet over Dean’s head. He held it in his hand for a moment, feeling the weight, remembering the day he’d given it to Dean, mind flashing through all the times he’d wrapped his hand around it while it rested against Dean’s heart. Sam reached up and pulled the cord around his own neck, letting the weight fall against his chest. “Just gonna hold on to this for you, De. You’ll get it back, I promise.” Sam placed one last kiss to Dean’s cold lips before climbing out of the hole. 

* * * * *

Sam knelt on the dirty floor of the abandoned farmhouse, drawing the symbols to summon Ruby. It had been hours since he’d drunk from that crossroads demon, but he could still feel the power pumping through his veins. He stood from the floor and began the incantation to finish the spell.

“Come on you bitch,” he ground out as he finished.

“Really, Sammy? Couldn’t try a phone?” Ruby smirked behind him.

“When was the last time you actually answered?” Sam shot back.

“I did everything to help you, Sam. It’s not my fault you waited too long to start your training and then ran out of time.”

“Right. You were there for me, right up to the end, right Ruby?” Sam’s eyes narrowed and his fists clenched at his sides. “Lying the whole time.”

Ruby crossed her arms over her chest. “I risked everything to help you and that moron of a brother. I don’t have to take this.” She walked toward the door, stopping short when she reached the barrier. She looked around and realized the entire floor was covered in the largest devil’s trap she’d ever seen.

“Clever, Sam. But bitching me out isn’t gonna bring Dean back.”

“Not here to bitch you out Ruby,” Sam said, walking towards her slowly, deliberately. “You’re gonna give me answers, or I’m going to kill you.”

Ruby started to laugh, but it died on her lips when she saw the icy flash of rage in Sam’s eyes. She tilted her head and looked at him, “You drank.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and quirked his lip. Ruby swallowed hard, suddenly finding her vessel’s mouth dry. 

“I drank. Dean’s dead. I’m pissed. You’ve been lying to me for months and now the only thing you’re good for is information. I don’t need _your_ blood, so you living is optional. Get useful, Ruby.”

“Fine,” Ruby was evil, not stupid. She was currently faced with a very powerful and very angry Sam Winchester, and she probably knew more about what he was capable of than he did himself. “What do you want to know?”

“Lilith. Where is she and how do I kill her?”

Ruby’s eyes went wide. Lilith was the other being she didn’t want to piss off. She wouldn’t just kill Ruby, she’d make a sport of torturing her slowly, dragging it out over centuries.

Sam took one step toward her and stretched out his hand. Ruby felt herself rise off the floor and as Sam twisted his hand pain spread through her. Blinding searing pain like she’d only experienced in the pit. It was as if every cell in her body was set on fire. Sam adjusted his reach and suddenly it felt like acid was running through her veins. Ruby screamed, but Sam only squeezed harder, until she was gasping. He released her and her body went crashing to the ground.

She lay on the floor, struggling for breath, and Sam reached his hand forward again. She grinned, bloody teeth gleaming, “Go ahead, whatever you do is just a tickle compared to what she’d do to me.” 

Sam growled, low and guttural. He brought both hands forward, this time Ruby’s body stayed on the floor, but the pain was worse. She felt cells exploding, popping and stabbing zinging along her nerves, her bones snapped and she screamed again. Sam continued twisting and squeezing and every anguished cry from the demon only fueled him on.

He stopped again and Ruby laid there, her crumpled form quivering. Sam stepped forward until he towered over her. He knelt down and whispered into her ear, “Tell me, and I’ll let you die.”

“Alright,” she said, voice a course, ragged whisper. Sam leaned down and Ruby whispered everything he needed into his ear. When she was done, he pulled the knife from his belt. 

“There’s one more thing you’re going to give me,” Sam said, drawing the blade over her throat. He grabbed the large bowl he’d brought and let Ruby’s blood drain until it was full.

“This is better than you deserve,” he said and plunged the blade into her heart.

The wound lit up electric yellow and Ruby convulsed once more before she fell lifeless back against the dirty floor. Sam took the bowl of blood and carefully poured it into a jug. He sealed it and stepped over Ruby’s body on his way out the door. Ruby would help him kill Lilith after all.

* * * * *

Sam drove the Impala over the border into Wyoming. He couldn’t have had a better location for Lilith if he’d asked. He found a hotel in the first small town and checked in. He didn’t want to stop, but he hadn’t slept in 3 days, and he needed to be at his best when he faced Lilith. He made a quick supply run, getting all the things on Ruby’s list and then turned in for the night.

His sleep was fitful, interrupted by flashbacks and nightmares and when he woke, he began preparations immediately. He put all the things he would need for the spell into his bag and tucked Ruby’s knife into his belt. Then Sam pulled the jug of Ruby’s blood from his bag. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at it. 

He’d never drunk that much at once before, and Sam wasn’t sure he could even stomach it. He removed the cap and brought it to his lips, for Dean he could do this. 

It was surprisingly the same as every other time he’d drunk demon blood. It poured down his throat sticky and thick. The same coppery, sulfur taste covered his tongue and the same feeling of power pulsed through him. And as he drank more and more, he felt the power build on itself. This was the last secret Ruby had kept from him. She’d always rationed her blood in carefully measured doses, telling him it would be dangerous for him to drink too much at once. In truth, the very way to boost his power enough to face a demon as powerful as Lilith was to drink more.

Sam swallowed the last of the thick bitter liquid and tossed the jug away. He stood and breathed deep, his chest heaving in and out. He could feel his powers expanding, like a force pulsing through his veins, coursing under his skin. The realization that if he’d had this just days ago, Dean would still be here hit him hard in that moment and his fury redoubled. He grabbed his bag and went to find Lilith.

* * * * *

Sam pulled up outside the old cowboy cemetery. He hadn’t been here since the night he’d found out about Dean’s deal, the night his father had climbed from hell to save them from Azazel. He grabbed his bag and headed toward the church.

He approached without making a sound, and stopped behind a large headstone when he saw a woman near the entrance. She turned and Sam saw how her eyes turned white. The adult body must have sat well for Lilith because she’d chosen another blonde woman for her vessel. In her right hand she gripped the Colt, gained from her deal with Bela.

He dropped his bag, if Lilith was already here, he wouldn’t need to summon her. He closed his eyes and locked in on the dark powers from deep within himself. He had to be ready to draw on every ounce of strength.

“Stop hiding, Sam,” Lilith called from past the headstone, “I know you’re here, and I know you think you’re going to kill me, avenge your brother’s death. It’s sweet really. Misguided, but sweet.”

Sam stood and walked around the headstone. “I am going to kill you,” he said coolly.

“And now is when I am supposed to get scared, beg you for mercy?”

“Oh, you will beg. But you won’t get any.” Sam held out his hand and the Colt flew from Lilith’s grasp, landing at Sam’s feet.

She looked surprised for a moment, before a frown creased her brow. “I see Ruby has been teaching you some tricks.”

Sam didn’t answer; he flicked his wrist and sent Lilith flying back against the door of the church, hands invisibly pinned beside her head. “Ruby proved to be very useful,” he said with a sneer. He closed his fist and Lilith’s face contorted in pain; she struggled against his hold but gained no ground.

“She told you?”

Sam’s face fell. Ruby had been working with Lilith? He knew she was a conniving liar, but he’d never thought she was actually working with their primary enemy.

Lilith smiled as she saw the surprise register on Sam’s face, “She was only supposed to bring you so far…let you have a little hope, string you along, but never actually give you anything useful. I’ll kill her.”

It was Sam’s turn to smile, “Too late.” He twisted his fist and squeezed. Lilith’s back arched away from the door and she shrieked in agony. He released and she fell back against the door for a moment before he aimed both hands at her and squeezed two tight fists. 

Her scream was cut off as the air was squeezed from her vessel. Her face contorted, eyes bulging as pain ripped through her body. The veins in Sam’s neck popped out as he called on every bit of strength in his powers.

Lilith’s mouth formed the word no and she tried to shake her head as she realized Sam wasn’t going to play games, he wanted only for her to die.

Sam held Lilith in place with one hand, and walked toward her, bringing out Ruby’s knife. “I think this is where you’d beg me. If I let you breathe. Probably offer me anything I want to stop?” Lilith just looked at him, her eyes gone white. “Well, there’s only 2 things I want from you. Your blood,” He drew the blade over her throat, “and your death.” 

Sam plunged the knife into Lilith’s heart. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and her body twisted and contorted as yellow light crackled through her. Sam bent and sealed his mouth around the slice in her throat. He drank from her, sucking deep from her veins. He felt a new jolt of power, Lilith’s blood carried so much more strength than he’d felt in Ruby’s. 

It was exactly what he needed to save Dean.

He drained every drop of blood and power he could from Lilith. It surged through his veins, tingled in his fingertips. Sam drew in a deep breath; he stretched his long fingers and then curled them into fists. Everything felt different and nothing was going to stop him. He held out his hand and the Colt came to him and he pulled the knife from Lilith’s chest, swiping the blade across her dress to clean it before tucking it back into his belt.

Sam took one more deep breath before placing the barrel of the Colt into the lock of the Devil’s Gate. “Hang on, Dean, I’m on my way.”

Sam put his hands on the door and pushed back every evil thing waiting to escape on the other side. He used his power to keep them back as he swung open the door and stepped into Hell itself. 

He pulled the door shut behind him and released the things he’d been holding. Some of them sensed the power in him and fled; those that remained, Sam made quick work of. He flung the wisps of evil spirits back, a demon approached him, and he held it still long enough to drink, then snapped its spine and tossed it away. 

Sam continued to make his way deeper and deeper into the pit, pushing spirits back, killing and drinking from any demon that got close enough to him. He heard screams from behind doors, and he held up his hands and threw every door open. He became angrier and more desperate every time the soul behind a door wasn’t his brother. As he left bodies behind him, more and more demons fled in his wake rather than invite his wrath.

He came to one door and was struck by the quiet behind it. He couldn’t explain, but somehow he just knew it was Dean in there. It was as if his very soul was being tugged in that direction.

Sam stood, head bent, his feet apart, his spine a tense straight line, the muscles in his back tightened, his arms were down at his sides and his big hands were clenched hard into fists. He raised his head slowly and rolled his shoulders. 

* * * * *

Dean was strung up on the rack again. He had no idea how long it had been. Every day blurred into the next in a never ending string of pain and humiliation. He didn’t regret what he’d done to save his brother, but he clearly had no real idea what he was getting into. 

At first he’d been his cocky smart-ass self. Told Alistair to stick it every day. But lately they’d gotten more creative with their torture. They had found Dean’s true weak spot and they worked it mercilessly.

His head hung listlessly forward. There was no fight left in him. There was nothing left in him. And Alistair stood in front of him again. One tear rolled silently down his cheek. Alistair smiled and Dean bowed his head and braced himself for what he knew was coming.

The sound of the doors crashing open brought Dean’s head up. No. It wasn’t possible. Surely this was a new game. There in the doorway, was Sammy. At least it looked like Sammy, he was covered in blood, it was even smeared all over his face, but he was pretty sure that was his little brother. However, Sam’s face was an image they’d used against him before. He was so broken at this point that Dean didn’t even care anymore if it actually was Sam or if it was just another mirage. The sight of his baby brother was still welcome and he just wanted to curl up against his little brother’s strong chest and let Sammy keep him safe.

Alistair started to open his mouth, but he didn’t have a chance to say anything before he was flung against the wall. Dean watched as Sam raised a hand, and Alistair’s eyes bulged out, his lips turned pale and blood began to trickle from his nose. Sam made a fist and twisted and Dean heard the crack of Alistair’s neck. 

He watched the demon’s body hit the floor and when he looked up for just a moment he thought Sammy’s beautiful hazel eyes had gone black. He blinked, eyes tired and bleary, blood trailing across one, and when he looked again, all he saw was his Sammy. No demon eyes, nothing out of place, just his baby brother.

* * * * *

Sam stood over the demon’s body, breath coming fast and deep. He’d done it; he’d made it through Hell and found his brother. He put up a hand and flung the door shut and then turned to Dean.

The sight before him may have brought him to tears hours ago, but in his current state, it just fueled his rage. Dean was stretched out, his wrists and ankles bound in iron, hooks through the meat of his shoulders. There were slashes across his chest and stomach, some neat slices, some deep gashes. His thighs were similarly marked, blood running down his bowed legs and pooling underneath him. Bruises marred his brother’s freckled skin and upon closer inspection Sam realized some were distinctly shaped like teeth.

Sam stepped toward him and Dean flinched back. When Dean lifted his head, Sam got his first good look at Dean’s face. One eye was swelled nearly shut and there was a gash above the other that had sliced into the eyelid. His beautiful lips were cracked and bleeding, the lower one fattened with swelling.

“Oh, God, Dean. I’m so sorry. Sorry I couldn’t stop this,” Sam moved forward slowly, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist as he raised his other hand and flicked his wrist, the iron cuffs released from Dean’s wrists and ankles and Sam held his weight so it wouldn’t pull on the hooks in his shoulders. “Hold on, Dean, this might hurt, but these have to come out.” Sam removed the hooks as carefully as he could, but Dean still screamed in pain, voice hoarse from hours of crying out. Dean collapsed, wrapped around his brother, body shaking. “Sammy,” Dean mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, Dean. It’s me, it’s Sammy. Gonna take you outta here now.”

Sam put one arm behind Dean’s knees and the other behind his back and lifted him against his own chest. He used his powers to throw the door to the room open again and push all the demons back. 

Sam cradled Dean against him and carried his brother out the way he’d come. Dean quaked in his arms and kept trying to look at Sam through his damaged green eyes.

“You came f-for me, Sammy? Came to save me,” Dean croaked out.

“ ’Course I did, Dean. Promised I’d save you. Always keep a promise, you taught me that.” Sam bent his head and placed a gentle kiss to Dean’s injured lips. Dean couldn’t help the small smile that tugged his lips. He rested his head against Sam’s broad chest, right over the tattoo that matched his own.

They had reached the door; Sam reached out with his powers and lifted the Colt back into the lock. He closed his eyes and put his head back. A pulse of energy shot out of him that spread like a bubble around him and Dean, knocking every demon and evil thing back from the door. Sam lowered his head and opened his eyes, the door flew open. He stepped through, slamming it shut behind him. The Colt went into his bag, the strap of the bag winding itself around him.

Sam carried Dean to the Impala and laid him out on the front seat. He started to move away, when Dean woke and wrapped a hand in Sam’s hair. 

Dean couldn’t put into words everything he was thinking, everything he was feeling in that moment. But he knew he didn’t need to, not with Sam. Sam looked into his eyes and saw it all.

“I know De, I got ya. I got you, Dean. You’re home.”


End file.
